Twintale
by staringatstars07
Summary: "Howdy!" the flower cheerfully called. "My name is Flowey. You two must be lost."
1. The Fall

"Mabel! Are you okay?"

The boy scrambled to his feet, wincing from the scuffs and scrapes he'd gotten from the fall as he parted a nearby patch of flowers to find his sister gazing dazedly up at the sunlight streaming in from the crack they'd slipped through. There was a bruise forming on her chin and her hands were just as scraped as his, but otherwise she appeared to be mostly unharmed. Exhaling a gusty sigh of relief, the boy helped her climb to her feet.

Instead of saying anything immediately the way he'd half-expected she would, she continued to quietly observe their new, strange surroundings, taking in the earthy browns and greens of the moss that grew over damp patches of rock, the alternating reds and oranges in the stone, brought out by the fading rays of a sunset that was quickly working its way below the horizon, before finally settling on the golden petals brushing their legs with a delighted grin. Then she peered over the boy's shoulder, the wonder that had shined so brightly slowly draining from her expression as confusion crept in to take its place. "Dipper," she whispered, "is that flower staring at us?"

He turned sharply to see that a new flower had appeared out of the cavern's floor. It was similar in appearance to the flowers that had broken their fall, the same honey colored petals sprang from its head, but this one had eyes, small and beady. It had a mouth. Noticing him staring, the flower smiled almost shyly, waving a leaf in greeting. A surprised, high pitched squeak forced its way past Dipper's lips as he quickly backed up, keeping his sister behind him.

"Howdy!" the flower cheerfully called. "My name is Flowey. You two must be lost." Its petals drooped with sympathy for the poor hapless human children.

Relieved, Mabel nodded fervently, always eager and ready to make a new friend no matter how strange the circumstances, especially if that new friend was a flower. "Oh my gosh, you're so cute! Can I pet you?"

"Um…" Before the flower could think up a decent response that wouldn't immediately injure the human girl's feelings, she impulsively reached out to stroke one of its petals. A hand clamped around her wrist, not tight enough to hurt through the fabric of her sweater, but enough to momentarily draw her attention. With her bottom lip protruding in the beginnings of a pout, she glanced up to see a fierce, guarded expression on her brother's face. Dipper glared hard at the smiling flower, body language tense and wary. "Don't touch him, Mabel. We've never encountered a talking plant before. For all we know, it could be an evil mastermind or something."

That sounded completely unreasonable. Villains weren't cute, adorable, harmless flowers that popped up and said things like, "Howdy!" And Mabel was just about to tell her brother off for being paranoid when something dark flitted over the flower's face, so fast she could almost convince herself she'd imagined it. Almost.

Sensing her sudden change in attitude, Dipper glanced back at her; curious as to why she wasn't trying to convince him he was acting crazy. "What's wrong with you two?" The flower asked innocently, a trace of hurt mixing in with its usual sickly sweetness. "You're not going to survive long here in the Underground without a friend on your side. Here," floating projectiles bearing the appearance of seeds surrounded the twins, spinning around their heads, circling in closer with each rotation, "take these friendship pellets. They'll help you on your journey."

"No thank you!" Mabel said quickly, ducking her head. "We're good, actually. So if you'll just let us leave- " She broke off with a scream as the pellets violently closed in on the spot where her head would have been had Dipper not suddenly pushed her off her feet. A new volley appeared, faster this time. The twins were forced to roll to escape as it plowed into the ground.

Flowey frowned. "Stop moving, you two. Can't you see I'm just trying to help you?"

"Help us?!" Dipper screamed back, fists balled at his sides as though he'd give anything to wrap his hands around the flower's stem, "You're obviously trying to kill us!"

At his words, the flower changed, transforming into something that bore a better resemblance to a grinning gargoyle with petals than anything that could be described as cute or cuddly. "You've got it! You're smarter than most of the humans that fell down here, I'll give you that." With a nonchalant leaf shrug, he added, "You're still going to die, though."

The last attack was faster than the rest. It surrounded them, blocking any chance of exit. Dipper grabbed Mabel's hand. "We're going to be okay," he said with as much confidence as he could muster, and was rewarded with a watery smile as she squeezed back.

For the first time, Dipper truly understood, all the way down to his core, how love could make a person capable of hate. Because he was going to die and Mabel was going to die and that stupid flower was going to keep smiling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing. And if they somehow survived to see the next few minutes, nothing was going to stop him from plucking him and yanking every petal off his head.

It wasn't to be, though. Someone intervened.

A small twister, no larger than a dust devil, blew into the room with enough wind speed to sweep Flowey up and carry it off. And, no, small twisters shouldn't occur underground, but that thought was quickly shoved aside and forgotten the moment a goat wearing a dress walked into the room with the posture and dignity of a queen. "Forgive me, my children. Had I known you were in danger, I would have come sooner."

Breaking away from him with a happy squeal, Mabel rushed forward, practically trembling with the suppressed urge to run her fingers through this new creature's fluffy white fur. "You're beautiful," Mabel said sincerely, causing a reddish tinge to color the monster's cheeks.

She laughed. "Why, thank you, little one. It is not very often that I hear such heartfelt compliments. Would you both like to come inside? My home is not far from here, and I am afraid you'll both catch colds if you linger outdoors for much longer."

Dipper bristled at the invitation, still healing from the bleeding, blistering rawness that their first "friend's" betrayal had rubbed at his already limited ability to trust. If it were up to him, it'd just be him and Mabel, but the flower had been right about one thing: If they were going to survive in a world where physics was ignored and animals could talk, then they were going to need friends. Preferably powerful ones. Despite that, he still had to make sure. "How do know we can trust you?" Mabel shot him a dismayed look, deflating, but even if she didn't like it, she understood where he was coming from, and took a step back from the goat woman with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. "We don't know anything about you."

"My name is Toriel." The goat woman said immediately, a relieved smile erasing some of the distress watching Mabel step away from her had brought. "As long as you are with me, you have my word that no harm will come to you."

Deciding this decision was too important to be left solely up to him, Dipper gestured for Mabel to come into a huddle. While they placed their hands on each other's shoulders, Toriel's long, floppy ears twitched with amusement.

"What do you think? Should we follow her?"

"What's our other option, bro bro? Stay here and wait for the world's meanest weed to come back?" A shiver traveled through her arms, the cavern's draft sinking into the fabric of her sweater, making it heavy and cold. She sneezed.

Biting down on his bottom lip, Dipper glanced at Toriel, who appeared to be struggling against the urge to wrap them up in a blanket and carry them. "You're right. We don't have much of a choice here." They broke up their huddle to face Toriel, their hands still clasped, a ward against the encroaching dark. Dipper raised his head to say clearly, "We've decided we'll go with you… if you'll still take us?"

Without warning, two arms easily wrapped around them both, pressing them against a chest that smelled strongly of cinnamon and butterscotch. The scent felt warm in their noses as Mabel sank into the embrace, tired and hurt and still so trusting, still so willing to believe that Flowey was just a fluke, a bad seed, and they'd be able to make it in this world, to find their way back home. Dipper didn't have her inexhaustible ability to trust or her optimism, but that was okay. Because she did. So he let some of the tension drain from his shoulders, let himself savor a comfort that could end at any second, and promised himself that he would never be caught off guard again.

 _Ha! That's right, kid! You can't trust anyone down here. Not even the voices inside your head!_

Well... that was beyond worrying.

He shifted in Toriel's embrace, pressing the side of his head against the fabric of her clothing so he could see Mabel, only to notice how tired she looked. She was smiling the same way she did after their mom brushed the knots out of her hair before bed, her eyelids drooping, her head hanging heavily as the steady beat of Toriel's heart threatened to send her straight to sleep. Seeing his expression, Mabel forcefully pushed back against her drowsiness, rousing just enough to lift her head and say, "What's wrong, Dipper?"

Smiling weakly, Dipper replied, "It's probably nothing, Mabel. I just need some sleep, that's all."

"I think," Toriel said as she picked them both up, cradling the two of them in the crook of each arm, "it is time for the both of you to get some much needed rest. When you awake, I shall have a wonderful surprise in store for you."

* * *

 **A/N:This is heavily inspired by mudkipful's crossover art on tumblr. I actually finished the first draft of this before seeing more than a few images of their gravity falls/undertale au, so the fact that a certain significant interaction lines up is kind of just a really cool coincidence.**


	2. Toriel

The blankets felt wrong. They were softer than he was used to, comfier, neater, not as crumbled. He was always staying up late with a book or a journal in his lap, so his covers were usually a twisted mess by the time he finally drifted off to sleep. There were other, less obvious hints that still niggled in the back of his mind as his consciousness struggled to surface. The pillow squished under his ear didn't smell like him. It smelled crisp, fresh in a way that made him wonder if it'd never been slept on before, or if it'd just been a very long time since anyone had done so.

Since falling into the mountain had to have been some sort of crazy dream, there was obviously a very real, very rational explanation for why he'd fallen asleep in a bed that wasn't his.

Tentatively, Dipper cracked open one eye, still holding on to the hope that he'd find himself staring at his own ceiling. Instead, he spotted a terrifying blob monster with wavy brown hair hovering an inch away from his nose. Hands parted the dense curtain of hair to reveal a smile filled with metal. He only had time to let out a startled yelp before it pounced on him, driving the air from his lungs. "You're awake!"

True to form, Mabel managed to say it with such genuine surprise that he could almost fool himself into believing she hadn't expected leaping on his chest and scaring him out of his skin to have disturbed his rest in the slightest. Well, the likelihood of their last few encounters being nothing but weird scenes from a dream fueled by late night popcorn or something had just dwindled from barely possible to pretty much non-existent. The weight of his sister propping her elbow up on his chest was too real to be imaginary. "Get off'a me, Mabel," he grumbled, trying to pull the covers out from under her so he could burrow back underneath. She rolled over with a giggle, showing off the gross bandage on her chin as she flopped over on her back with her arms splayed wide. There was a sense of anticipation around her, a barely suppressed energy.

Now that he wasn't distracted by his goofy sister, Dipper noticed the walls painted red as tomato skins, the carpet laid over the wooden floorboards, the child-sized mattress that fit him better than his own bed at home, the variety of toys lined up neatly in a row beside his bed, and the wafting sugary, sweet scent of cinnamon and butterscotch.

Who was their new host, anyway? The room was too clean to be used much, yet it was obviously a room meant for children. Was she a babysitter? Did her own children grow up and move out? Did goats go to college?

His stomach rumbled, issuing a formal complaint that there existed an edible, delicious smelling dessert somewhere close by which had not yet taken up residence in his stomach. How long had it been since they'd last eaten? How long had they been asleep? Their parents must have realized by now that they were missing, but who would think to look for them underground? Were they already sending out search parties?

He'd never been especially skilled at keeping his thoughts to himself, even when he wasn't saying them out loud, so it was with a pang of regret that he noticed some of his sister's exuberance had withered under the rain of his own personal storm cloud. It wasn't right to make her worry when there wasn't anything more she could do. "Sorry, Mabel, I'm just-"

"We need to eat, Dipper," she interrupted softly. "I want to go home as much as you do, but if we're going to be here for a little while, then we might as well make the best of it." Pursing her lips to blow out small, ineffective puffs that lifted locks of her hair out of her eyes for less than a second before they landed exactly where they started, she added, "And whatever goat mom is making us, it smells _really_ good!"

Well, it was always good to know Mabel's priorities were in order.

Wait a minute… goat mom?

She was already off the bed, skipping towards the door when he swung his legs off the bed and onto the carpet. "Mabel?" She spun around, practically glowing. "Why did you call Toriel 'goat mom'? Did she ask you to call her that?" Hiding his alarm was proving to be an impossible task, so he gave up on it completely.

"Not exactly." For once, Mabel actually hesitated to speak, her brow furrowed as she seriously considered what effect each possible answer could have on her brother. In the end, she decided to rush through it, speaking quickly in the hope that anything upsetting wouldn't sink deep enough to process. "I was still kind of groggy and she was brushing my hair and it just slipped out, you know?" Now that she mentioned it, her hair did look unusually glossy considering she just woke up. "No big deal, right? And she, uh, looked kind of happy. So I decided to compromise."

"You went outside without me?! What if something happened?" He'd have been sound asleep, completely unaware, and she'd be injured or lost or something so awful he didn't even want to think about it. There was worrying too much then there was not worrying _enough_. "That is so- I don't even – You -" Biting back a growl of frustration, Dipper threw the comforter off, crossing the room in quick strides so he could have some space to think. Technically, the goat creature – _Toriel_ – hadn't asked Mabel to call her mom, so it wasn't that weird. And the fact that being called mom made her happy fit nicely with his earlier theories that she was a mom or a babysitter.

What didn't fit was the box filled with children's shoes. They were all different sizes, different colors. Some of them looked as though a little boy might have worn them, while pink sneakers and ballet slippers brought a little girl to mind.

"Maybe it's a Lost & Found?" Mabel suggested, though she regarded the box with a wary, apprehensive air. "It's not exactly unheard of for kids to forget their shoes or something. Or maybe they're back-ups? In case someone lost a pair and, 'hey, look at all these shoes to pick from!" Eventually, she trailed off into silence, glancing back at Dipper, who didn't appear to be the slightest bit reassured.

His heart beat faster in the face of this new information, tapping out a rapid, panicked rhythm against his ribcage.

Sensing the resurgence of dread and the fear beginning to taint his thoughts, Mabel grabbed his hand, determined to share some of her own certainty that things would turn out alright through the contact, even if most of it wasn't based on any facts or logic or observations. "It's okay, Dipper. I haven't been up that long, but I talked a little with Toriel and… she's not bad. I'm sure she can explain about the shoes and things because she doesn't want to hurt us." Some of the tension easing out of her shoulders, she added with a light chuckle, "She barely let me go to the bathroom by myself. Like she was afraid I was going to get lost or fall in or something." Well, that didn't sound like someone who would want to eat them. Gradually, color returned to Dipper's cheeks. "What do ya say, Dipdop? Can we give her the benefit of the doubt? Just this once? She's not creepy or anything, she's just…" There was a short pause where her gaze suddenly darted to the hallway, something bright and dancing and eager sparking in her brown eyes. "I have to show you something."

As usual, she didn't wait for a nod or any other form of consent before dragging him out into the hallway. The walls outside were painted the exact same golden yellow as the flower patch that cushioned their landing; old-fashioned lanterns were evenly spaced apart between the room they'd just exited and the next. Dipper glanced uneasily at a flower he could see peeking out of a vase. "She sure likes flowers, doesn't she?" Maybe that was why she was visiting the flower patch in the first place. She wanted to pick some for her house. When he thought about it like that, it was harder to hate the flowers. After all, if she wasn't so fond of them, she wouldn't have been there to save them from Flowey.

Twisting the doorknob, Mabel replied with a knowing smirk, "That's not all she likes." They stepped into a dimly lit room that threw everything into a light shade of blue, even the cactuses. Somehow, despite the twilight-esque atmosphere, the two golden flowers laid on top of the bookcase seemed unaffected. It was almost like they didn't exist in the same place as the rest of the room, their golden hue making them stand out all the more prominently.

Since she'd seen the room before, Mabel ignored the odd decorative choices, instead heading straight for an open journal on a desk. "We can't read that!" Dipper objected. "It's rude. And it's none of our business what she writes in her private journal." Speaking from experience, there was nothing worse than having someone stick their nose into your deepest, most private thoughts.

"Stop worrying so much. I only read one page." She cleared her throat, reading, "Why did the skeleton want a friend?" She paused to wait for Dipper's reaction, looking about ready to explode with the urge to blurt out the punch line.

Suppressing a sigh, Dipper shrugged. "You got me, Mabel. Why did the skeleton want a friend?"

She trembled as a fresh wave of laughter nearly overtook her. "Because he was feeling bonely!" She grinned, waiting for him to laugh. It wasn't that he didn't want to; he knew she just wanted to cheer him up, but it didn't sound that funny to him. It sounded kind of sad, actually. Her shoulders slumped, suddenly self-conscious. Smile fading, she put the book down where she found it. "I guess… maybe it wasn't as funny as I thought?"

Not many jokes were as funny as Mabel thought they were. That didn't matter, though. That wasn't why she'd brought him to this room. She'd wanted to cheer him up. Dipper shook his head, shuddered, then slapped his cheeks twice. The sting grounded him, reminded him of where he was. There were plenty of factors he couldn't control, plenty of things to worry over until his head pounded with all the worst-case scenarios ricocheting around in his skull, but there was only one Mabel. And she was standing right in front of him, looking like he'd just dropped her favorite sweater in a puddle.

Tilting his head to the side with a hand propped on his hip; he felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards, completely unforced. "Tibia honest, I'm pretty sure I can come up with better."

She perked up immediately, a playful fire burning under her skin. "Is that a challenge? Do you dare challenge the currently reigning Pun Queen?"

"Depends. Do you think you can skele- _hand_ le it?"

Before Mabel could do more than open her mouth for a retort, a soft laugh coming from behind them startled them both. They spun around with guilty expressions already fixed to their faces to see Toriel standing in the doorway, shaking with mirth.

"Um," Mabel scuffed her foot on the wooden floor, head ducked in shame, "we're sorry for barging into your room like this. I just wanted to show Dipper your jokes."

Wiping a tear away from her eye, Toriel replied, "It's quite alright, child. I never forbade you from entering my room, after all." In a few short steps, she'd moved from the doorway to the desk, then stroked the journal's binding with a fond, faraway look in her eyes. "These jokes are from a friend of mine. We've never met face to face, but I've heard his voice many times, often when I am most in need of a good laugh. He is very kind, you see. Whenever I find myself wishing to speak with him, he always seems to be sitting outside the Ruins, waiting for me. "

"Oh my gosh, that is so romantic!" Mabel hugged Toriel's arm, already planning all the wonderful ways she'd match-make her new goat mom and this mysterious, punning stranger.

"Oh dear, I am afraid I am much too old to think about such things." Herding them away, she added, "Now come along, children. There is something very special waiting for you in the kitchen."

Movement flickered in the very edge of Dipper's vision, peeking his curiousity. He peered behind him to see his own reflection staring back at him as he walked away. It canted its head, eyes widening in surprise as though it hadn't expected to be seen, then its lips curved into an unpleasant smile that stretched too far. There was a flash of yellow. Dipper rubbed his eyes.

By the time he opened them again, Toriel had already led them far enough away that the only thing looking back at him was an empty mirror.

* * *

"And you're absolutely sure it's not poisoned?"

Already cutting away part of the pie for herself, Mabel shot him an exasperated look. "You're still on this? Look, that flower was weird, but Toriel's one of the good guys. I'm sure of it. And to make that point exceptionally clear, I'll be the taste tester." She plopped a bite of delicious, sweet tasting pie into her mouth. At first, she simply chewed while happy humming noises emanated from behind her lips, giving Dipper some time to retrieve his own piece, then her eyes went wide, a hand flying to her throat.

Panicking, Dipper nearly dropped his plate, only to glare furiously at his sister when she dissolved into inappropriate giggles. "You should have seen your face!"

Toriel rushed in. "What's going on? Is everyone all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine. No emergency here." Dipper grumbled, biting off a piece of his slice and chewing it in a slow, overly exaggerated manner that made it very clear he was still upset about it. "Mabel just thought it'd be funny to play a prank on me."

"Oh." With one hand on her chest as though to keep her heart from bursting out, Toriel let out the breath she'd been holding in a long, relieved exhale.

Dipper watched as a spectrum of thoughts play over her face without comment, trying to place the emotion behind them. The first was easy. A faded memory played out in his head, fuzzy and unclear like footage from an old movie. It was him and Mabel, back before she'd gotten her braces, when she still wore her hair in pigtails, and they were hopelessly lost. There were too many people in the mall, everywhere they looked they saw long legs blocking their way, and even though they hadn't even been lost for a full hour before their mom found them again, she'd burst into tears, wrapping her arms around them and holding them close like she was never going to let them go.

Thinking of her stripped the pie of some of its sweetness. He had to focus on forcing it down, as it suddenly felt too large and heavy in a mouth that had gone dry.

The second was a little harder, and technically it wasn't the second, since a few others had passed, too quick and fierce for him to identify. Once he placed it, though, he found the next bite of pie felt heavy in his mouth for a different reason.

Grief.

She was grieving.

His thoughts flew to the abandoned toys with a thin layer of dust coating their surfaces, the mismatched shoes, the bed. It was something he'd never considered but it certainly explained why she was so willing to go out of her way to help them.

It wasn't that her children had all moved out, grown up and found someplace to live elsewhere.

The more he listened and watched and learned, the more it seemed like they'd all _died_.

Of course, he didn't have any proof. And asking her definitely was out of the question. But he had a feeling he was right, or on the right track, at least. In any case, it seemed like Mabel was right about her. If she'd wanted to hurt them, she'd had more than enough chances, already. Besides, real monsters didn't have panic attacks when their intended prey or dinner or whatever stubbed their toe.

Once he'd resolved to give trusting her a try, Dipper found he actually really enjoyed the cinnamon and butterscotch pie. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect balance of smooth and sweet.

"Why don't you eat by the fireplace?" Toriel suggested. "Oh! And before I forget," blocky cellphones the size of television remotes from the prehistoric age were pressed into their free hands, a contact number already programmed into them. Fiddling with it, Mabel dragged a finger down the screen, frowning with confusion when nothing happened. "If you ever need me, please do not hesitate to call. Later, I will show you the puzzles so you can find your way through the tunnels without danger."

"Yay! Dipper loves puzzles!" After Mabel's happy outburst, they were guided out of the kitchen with all the care of a mother duck, with palms radiating a steady heat as they pressed lightly against their backs.

There was plenty of room to sit in front of the fireplace. Dipper quickly found a space where he could cross his legs and sit, a space where he was close enough to the flames to feel the tingle of their heat on his skin, but not close enough to burn. Eating on autopilot now, his jaw moved mechanically, his mouth chewing and swallowing for him until the last crumb disappeared. He didn't even notice until he nearly took a bite out of his hand.

Would someone willing to take them home give them cellphones? He'd already decided he was being too paranoid, but something about Toriel's promise to show them the puzzles and tunnels sounded, well, permanent.

She had to know they weren't staying forever, right?

Sitting across from him, Mabel licked her fingers, determined not to let a single delectable granule of sugar go to waste. For someone so full of energy so much of the time, she sure took an insane amount of satisfaction in a sugar rush.

While they finished eating, Toriel sat in her armchair with her reading glasses on, clicking knitting needles together in a soothing rhythm. Due to their length, the completed rows of gathered clementine orange yarn dragged on the floor. She must have been working on it for hours. Coiled in her lap was a similar project, except this one was a shade of blue only slightly darker than Mabel's sweater. The twins glanced at her progress occasionally, wondering if it would be rude to ask if they were gifts, though it seemed unlikely that they could be for anyone else. When Dipper shivered, the flames having grown dim over time, it was to quickly find himself with an unfamiliar weight draped around his neck. It was warm, as though it carried some of the flame within it, and his skin drank it in as his cheeks flushed pink with surprise, gratitude, and the slightest hint of shame. "Thank you," he muttered into the fabric of his new scarf. Mabel fidgeted in place as Toriel wrapped the blue scarf snuggly around her neck, utterly giddy with excitement.

Once she was done and he turned away, a padded hand squeezed his shoulder. "I am so pleased you like it, my child. It can get so cold here." Having risen to her feet, Toriel announced that it was time to start preparing for dinner. With a casual wave of her hand, she walked towards the kitchen, stopped, and hesitated, brow furrowing with uncertainty. "You will stay here, won't you? The tunnels are no place for children to wander alone."

They nodded, though being asked not to explore the tunnels increased their desire to do so about ten fold. Once she was out of sight, apparently satisfied that they would wait patiently for her return, Dipper climbed to his feet, digging his fingers into the scarf as he headed towards the staircase Toriel had led them past when she'd guided them towards the kitchen.

"Dipper!" Mabel jumped up, lurching after him with wobbly, unsteady strides due to the tingling pins and needles in one of her feet. "Wait up," she furiously whispered as she caught up to him. "You're going exploring, aren't you? We told Toriel-"

"I'm just going to look around a little, Mabel. I said I wasn't going to leave and I won't, but I'd feel better if I knew where the exit was." Worrying her bottom lip, she glanced guiltily towards the kitchen and the cheerful sounds of pans clanging and water boiling that emanated from the doorway. Deciding she needed one more push, Dipper asked, "Don't you want to go home?"

And any conflict left flaked off and fell away. There was a slow nod and then, "Okay. Let's go."


	3. Talk To Them

Since it was his idea to go exploring, Dipper descended the steps first, and was surprised to find that his surroundings quickly transformed from painted walls the color of daffodils to a smooth, seamless corridor. The still air dropped a degree or two with every step forward he took. As he squinted, trying to catch details through the paltry lighting that would provide some clue as to the corridor's purpose, and hopefully point them towards the closest exit, a dull gray object lying on the ground caught his eye. Curious, he crept towards it.

It was a toy knife.

Its blade and hilt were made of plastic, which meant that one of the kids who'd stayed with Toriel before them must have dropped it. Picking it up, Dipper pressed a finger against what would have been the sharp edge had it been a real knife. It was surprisingly sturdy for a toy, not sharp or lethal by any means, but a hard jab in the ribs with it would probably do some minor damage. At the very least, he was confident it wouldn't tickle.

A shuffling in the dirt reminded him of his sister's presence not too far behind him. In a blink, the toy knife was out of his hand and out of sight, becoming a burning weight in his pocket, instead.

Strange.

He didn't remember deciding to hold onto it.

"Jeez," Mabel shivered as she approached, rubbing her arms to try and get her blood flowing, "goat mom wasn't kidding. It's f-freezing down here." Catching sight of his expression, she tilted her head, squinting in the dark to see him better. "Hey, are you okay? You look a little spooked."

He winced, knowing he couldn't pass whatever was going on with him off as side effects from a lack of sleep when he'd only just woken up. Guilt tinged with fear squeezed his heart in an icy grip as a sudden, irrational image of her cringing away from him spearheaded its way to the forefront of his mind. The image faded away quickly, but not without leaving its mark. "Stop worrying about me, Mabel," he snapped, taking a step away from her, pretending not to notice the way she flinched. "I'm fine."

With hurt acting as the fuel to her anger, Mabel bit out, "Fine. Be that way," squared her shoulders, and marched straight past him. Seeing her retreating back brought regret rushing into Dipper's lungs like a swirling cloud of smoke and he quickly jogged to catch up to her. "Look, Mabel, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to snap at you like that. I guess I'm just a little freaked out." Though the admission wasn't enough to earn her complete forgiveness, she did somewhat slow her pace, keeping her gaze locked on what was apparently a very interesting wall as Dipper took the time to catch his breath.

If he could just tell her that something was wrong, everything would be better. Since Mabel was, well, Mabel, she'd probably understand and even try to help him figure out what was going on, but something kept holding him back. Maybe he just wanted to believe it wasn't real, none of it, and if he never told anyone about it, then it never would be. Or maybe it'd all just go away once they returned to the surface.

More than anything, he was scared that at some point in the near future, Mabel would back way from him, wide-eyed and frightened, as though she honestly believed that he was capable of hurting her. And his sister was fearless. She'd tackle a bear if she thought it was in desperate need of a makeover, so if she was scared of him, it could only be because she had a very good reason to be.

They were just about to turn a corner when a pale white frog the size of a small child leapt to block their path. Dipper gulped. A frog that size could fit his entire head in its mouth. It bobbed a little, moving back and forth, its large, bulbous eyes glittering with intelligence. With her mouth quirked to the side and a what-can-you-do shrug, Mabel waved. "Hi! We're just passing through here. Maybe you could move to the side?" There was a long croak, its nostrils flared. "Please?" And it could have been the shadows flitting over its wide, flat face, but Dipper could have sworn he saw it roll its eyes.

"I don't think he can understand you, Mabel." Waiting for him to move on his own was a waste of time. Toriel was going to realize they were gone any second, and then she'd probably never let them out of her sight again.

"Yesterday, you would have said the same thing about goats and flowers," she retorted, "but look where we are now. There aren't any rules here, Dipper." The frog let out a drawn out ribbit, sounding bored. Well, if it was so bored, why didn't it just hop away? It didn't have to stick around for their sake.

Not deterred in the slightest, Mabel tried to start up a conversation. While she asked what it was like to be such a cool frog, bringing a dark green flush to the frog's cheeks as it continued to bob and sway, Dipper felt the weight in his pocket grow heavy. His fingers twitched towards the toy knife, and the frog, startled by the movement, launched itself forward. Mabel screamed as the frog threw itself towards her, its mouth opened so wide she could've counted the purple veins running through its paper-thin membrane had she not been dealing with more pressing concerns at the time. "Dipper!" She ducked and it sailed past, landing a few feet further down the corridor, then it twisted around to face her, and leapt again.

It was too quick, there wasn't enough space to move; it was going to hit her. An instant before it would have crashed into her, a shock of bright orange filled Mabel's vision, a gray blur struck the air, slashing through the frog's body without resistance. Instead of dying immediately, an agonized ribbit! stabbed the air, and the twins backed away, holding each other, each watching silently and with mounting horror as the pieces of the frog's began to break away, turn to dust, and return to nothing.

"I – I didn't mean to." The toy knife fell from trembling fingers. Dipper didn't want to look at her, was more terrified of her reaction than he'd been of Flowey. "I swear I didn't mean to." The dust was on his hands, his shirt, his hat, his scarf. When he drew in a breath some of it entered his mouth and he doubled over in a violent coughing fit.

 _What's with the theatrics, Pine Tree?_

Shut up.

 _So a monster bit the dust, what's the big deal? Are you sure they're even real? In my experience, real, living flesh bags don't turn to dust when you stick them with pointy things._

Tearing herself away from the pile of dust on the floor, Mabel found herself glaring at the dull gray of the toy knife, hoping she could somehow melt down the plastic through the sheer fire of her gaze. A toy like that shouldn't have even bruised the frog, let alone kill it. It shouldn't have. It shouldn't have... but it did.

A quiet sniffling interrupted her attempt at pyrokinesis, the source of which was Dipper, who was furiously trying to rub the dust off his cheeks with the backs of his hands. Her heart ached for him, her arms wrapping around him from behind so he couldn't push her away. "It's okay, bro bro. I know you were just trying to protect me. I swear I'm not mad or anything."

"Mabel?" Putting her chin on his shoulder, she hummed softly, letting him know she was listening. "I think there might be something wrong with me." There was a hiss like static, and then, "Enim s'ti kniht t'nod I dna daeh ym ni eciov a s'ereht." Confused by the strange gibberish issuing out of her brother's mouth, Mabel pulled back, her slender brows arched in a question. Any words she might have said turned to ash in her mouth as the blood drained from Dipper's face. "You didn't understand a word I just said, did you?"

In that moment, all she wanted to do was tell him anything he wanted to hear, anything that would make him smile. He was shaking like a leave and covered in dust, and something was so clearly wrong, something had so obviously scared him, that Mabel would have given up a dozen birthday parties if it meant finding out a way to help him. Her brother wasn't fearless – neither was she, though it was okay if he believed she was - but he was brave. When it came to mysteries and puzzles and monsters, Dipper was the bravest boy she knew.

So she turned him around, placing her hands on his cheeks so he was forced to look at her. "We'll figure something out," she said firmly, as his shivers began to gradually to subside. "Next time we see a monster, we'll talk to them, okay? And we'll figure out what's going on with you because we're amazing and amazing people always save the day."

Shaking his head, Dipper asked, "How can you be so sure, Mabel? How can you know everything's going to be okay? How do you know things won't go horribly wrong and we'll be stuck here forever and-"

"Well, that's a silly question." She brushed some of the dust off his shirt, as much as she could manage. It clung to him, sticking to his skin in a thick coat, but at least he no longer looked like the unfortunate victim of a flour explosion. "It's because-"

Padded hands squeezed their shoulders, catching them off guard. Mabel yelped, jumping at the unexpected touch. "This is not a place for children, little ones." In a tone that was unusually stern and level coming from her, Toriel asked that they, "Please be good and go upstairs."

It wasn't a threat, but something ominous definitely swam underneath the surface. It set Dipper's already frayed nerves on edge.

"Why?" Dipper jerked away from her, accidentally revealing the remaining dust on his clothes. Her lips parted in a silent cry, as though she'd been struck. He plowed on, "What's down here? Where's the exit? Mabel and I have to go home."

"You wish to go home?" Toriel muttered, more to herself than to the two children in her presence. "Of course. You always do." She looked through them. "Go upstairs." Then she strode past them, holding her head high, as remote and untouchable as a living sculpture carved from stone.

Rather than continuing to stand by the remains of the life he'd taken, Dipper ran to follow her, a frustration that bordered on fury now boiling in his gut.

Ever since she'd saved them, she'd guided them by the hand like toddlers, always believing she knew what was best for them even though she didn't even know them, just like every other adult he'd ever met. Well, this wasn't funny, anymore. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to take them to the exit, and then they were going to find their way back to the surface.

And if he got away from the monsters, maybe the voice would stop bothering him. It only started after they fell, so maybe it was something about the place. In any case, he wasn't - hanging around lost in the underground wasn't safe.

By the time he'd caught up to her, she was standing by a door with the same crest engraved on its face that she wore on her chest. He'd always just assumed it was a pretty pattern of some sort, but now he examined it, committing the shapes and symbols to memory. From his perspective, it was a circle with wings flying over a few triangles, but someone had to know more. Unfortunately, Toriel didn't seem too inclined to answer his questions.

"The other children, they all wanted to leave, too, and then they never came back." The shoes. The empty room. The toys. No wonder she didn't want them to leave. "I thought, given time, that you might like it here. And I could teach you how to be kind, how to be strong without being cruel, yet I was wrong. You and your sister are no different from the rest." It wasn't an accusation. It was merely a statement. An observation of a reality she couldn't change no matter how many times or how many different ways she tried.

"Actually, we're one of a kind," huffed Mabel when she caught up to them.

Toriel disagreed. "No, you are not. You are young and you are foolish, and if you leave, you will die." This conversation was not heading in the direction Dipper had hoped for. He reached for the toy knife, wondering if he could somehow bluff their way past the exit - no matter how upset he was at being tricked again, hurting Toriel was an option he'd only even start to consider if their lives were honestly in danger and not before - only to remember with a groan that he'd dropped it and left it behind. "If you truly want to leave the Ruins, then you will have to prove to me that you are both strong enough to survive."

"Are you actually serious, right now?" It was a good thing he was wearing a hat because he could have torn his hair out. "You talk about protecting us, but you just want to keep us here like we're prisoners or something! And now, if we don't do exactly what you want, we have to fight? Don't you get how messed up that is?" When Toriel didn't respond beyond a slight narrowing of her eyes, Dipper ripped the scarf away from his neck and threw it on the ground. "I was so stupid! I can't believe I ever thought trusting you would be a good idea."

"Why? Because I'm a monster?"

"That was part of it at first, yeah, but now it's just because you're a hypocrite!" It wasn't like he'd known her for more than a day, but he'd started to think that maybe... she really was one of the good guys. And now he wasn't even completely sure that he was.

"Guys," glancing nervously between them, Mabel asked, "can't we talk this out over another piece of pie?" Perhaps due to Toriel's abrupt change in demeanor, Mabel was struggling to wrap her mind around what was happening. It was as though she'd inadvertently skipped to the end of a story and was know being quizzed on the beginning. What had changed? Why was Toriel so upset? Why would they die if they left? What was out there? "Dipper, please tell her you don't want to fight." Before he could say anything, the air around them grew uncomfortably warm. Fireballs spontaneously formed around their heads and feet, launching themselves at their bodies while Toriel looked on impassively.

Throwing herself to the side as Dipper did the same, Mabel cried out, "Stop this! Please, goat mom, I don't want to fight you!" There was a sob building in her throat, the tears blurring her vision making it hard for her to focus as the flames kept rushing forward, the heat passing so close to her body that she could smell the fabric of her sweater burning, and Toriel didn't respond. She acted like they weren't even there.

"Fight me. Fight me or run away."

And Mabel found her voice caught in her throat, breaking as she screamed, "No! We're not fighting you!" To Toriel's surprise, she darted forward, racing through the flames, and Dipper didn't know what she was planning, didn't know if she even had a plan or if she was just acting on impulse, but he saw the flames appear in her path, had the warning formed behind his teeth, but there wasn't enough time. The flames struck her in the chest, throwing her backwards. Her body tumbled over and over, only coming to a complete stop when Dipper threw himself behind her to halt her momentum. A hand came to rest against his chest; he gripped it, holding it close. "Mabel?" No reaction. "Mabel, wake up. Come on, this isn't funny. We're going home, right? The both of us, you and me, just like always."

There was a soft, quiet weeping coming from the exit, but he ignored it. There was a collection of sounds that could have been words, could have been an apology, but he ignored it.

"You said we'd be safe as long as we were with you." Gritting his teeth, he continued, "I decided to try trusting you because Mabel was positive you wouldn't hurt us." It was getting harder to speak, harder to form words, but Toriel had to know - had to understand that she'd had one friend, one ally, and now she was injured or worse and she had no one to blame for it but herself. And him. He never should have convinced Mabel to come down with him. "She really liked you, she trusted you, and you hurt her." The fireballs hadn't even stopped, they trailed along the ground, hovering, parting where Dipper knelt cradling his sister and floating by without harming them. "What?" His mouth dropped with disbelief. "What is this? You did this and now you feel bad about it?" A flame passed too close as Toriel's focus wavered, singing Dipper's sleeve. "You attacked us! You're _still_ attacking us! You don't _get_ to feel bad!"

Attacking her wouldn't do anything. It wouldn't help Mabel. It wouldn't help anyone. But she deserved it. Even knowing he wouldn't stand a chance against her, even knowing he didn't have magic or a weapon or any upper body strength, Dipper wanted to fight her, to hurt her, to make her pay.

You could take her out now, Pine Tree. For once, Dipper didn't react to the jarring, grating, absurdly gleeful presence in his 's so busy grieving; she won't even see you coming.

Toriel's face was hidden by the paws placed over it, her back curved with the weight of her remorse, her guilt. "I am so sorry."

But he didn't have a weapon, and even if he had the toy, he didn't think it'd work on a monster bigger than a frog.

 _Yeah, but that's an easy fix._ Something heavy appeared in his pocket, sharper and more solid than the toy knife. Its point pressed against his leg. This time, the weapon wasn't made of plastic. Sounding unbearably smug, the voice added, _That lame Comedian may think he knows a thing or two about manipulating space and time, but he's got no bones on me._

Shoving a hand into his pocket, Dipper gripped the hilt, torn between taking another life, an act he knew Mabel wouldn't have wanted, and staying by her side. The quiet sound of a soft, feeble cough filled him with a relief that brought him back from the edge. Closing his eyes, he let a harsh breath. "You hurt my sister." Though she must have been expecting this, the goat woman still couldn't entirely keep herself from flinching. Instead of making him waver, it helped solidify Dipper's resolve. "But she's alive." Unconscious. Hurt. But alive.

 _What do you think you're doing, Pine Tree?_

"And I promised her that I'd talk to the next monster I encountered, so this is me, talking to you... Stop fighting us. Let us go."

After letting out a low groan, Mabel opened her eyes. "Did we win? Is goat mom okay?"

One by one, the flames flickered, fading out completely as Toriel struggled to regain her composure. "Forgive me, my children. It was not my intention to harm you. I merely wished to protect you, but… perhaps the Ruins are no place for you, after all. It is much too small, too lonely here. You would only be unhappy. And you both deserve to see with your own eyes how wonderful this world can be, and all the kind, gentle people who live in it." With a sad smile, she moved aside. "I am afraid, however, that if I am to let you pass, then I must ask one favor of you."

"Sure thing, goat mom." Mabel answered before Dipper could refuse. Brushing herself off as she stood up, Mabel spotted the orange scarf on the ground, quickly picked it up, and wrapped it around her own neck for safe keeping, since she was sure he'd be wanting it back at some point. "What's up?"

For an instant, Toriel's eyes filled with a laughter that lit up her entire countenance - she'd never believed the child was serious when they chose that particular nickname, yet it seemed to have stuck. Then the light faltered, a cloud of unfathomably deep sadness passing over it. "Please do not return to this place." There she went, pulling the rug out from under them again. Mabel made a series of small, wounded choking noises as Toriel stroked her hair. "This may be much to ask of you after the frightening experience I've just put you through, but it is also my one wish. Do you think you could find it within yourselves to understand?" Her smile turned bitter as she looked away. "Perhaps not. Perhaps you are too young."

She embraced them both, her paws wrapped around them as though she might never hold them in her arms again. And she wasn't their mom, but she was kind, and despite knowing them for only a short time, she'd loved them in her own way. It seemed no time had passed at all before she was letting them go. "Goodbye, my children. Be safe."

They watched her leave, Mabel holding her breath when Toriel hesitated, looking as though there was nothing she wanted more than to turn back. Then she gathered her nerve and was gone.

Once she was sure that Toriel really and truly was not coming back, Mabel moved as though to follow her, one of her arms lifted slightly, as though she wanted to reach out but couldn't; a weight she couldn't place was holding her back. "Leaving like this doesn't feel right." And following her when she wanted to be alone... that didn't feel right, either. Did she really never want to see them again? "Maybe," her arm dropped to her side, forgotten, "if we stay here, she'll come back?" Dipper glanced at the exit. It wasn't going anywhere. There wasn't any harm in waiting a few minutes.

So they waited, each staring at the hall for a tuft of white fur, waiting, hoping for the sweet smell of flour and sugar and cinnamon, for the sight of a gentle smile.

But no one came.

 **Continue?**

 **Restart?**


	4. Continue?

Eventually, they couldn't put off leaving any longer. The door wasn't as heavy as it looked, though. It practically swung open at the barest touch, giving them access to the mostly lightless room beyond it. In the center was a lonely green patch of grass that rested under a concentrated stream of light. Dipper squinted up at the ceiling, searching for its source, but as far as he could tell, there wasn't one.

"Mabel, I think we should-"

Too late. A golden flower erupted from the ground. "You two must think you're so smart, and all because you spared one life. One person." Its smile spilt open into a gaping, jagged tear. "It's kill or be killed down here, kids. There's no getting around that." Then it zeroed in on Dipper. "Though maybe only one of you still needs to learn that particular lesson."

It'd been watching. It'd seen him kill the frog. This whole time, it'd been following them.

"That poor Froggit didn't stand a chance, did it? Not that it matters." Its grotesque grin stretched wider, a terrible gaping hole that reeked of rotting plant matter. "After all, as long as you get to go home, who cares if a few monsters have to die, right?"

The knife was back in Dipper's hand before he'd even finished deciding to draw it, but Mabel stepped in front of him, one hand staying his arm. "It's okay, Dipdop. I got this."

Stomping forward, she swiped at the plant. It ducked into the ground, popped up again, "What do you think you're doing?" and then went back in to avoid another swipe. It leaned towards her, so close it took every ounce of her courage not to step back, to meet it head on without flinching, " **I could kill you, you know**."

And then it vanished, its head burrowing into the ground without leaving any trace that it'd been there at all. Mabel spun around to give Dipper a thumbs up. "Looks like I scared it away. You're welcome."

For a moment, all Dipper could do was stare at her, completely speechless. If it weren't for the fact that they'd spent their entire lives together, he might not have noticed the subtle tremor in her fingertips, the slightest shaking of her shoulders. She was doing her best to hide how scared she was, so he didn't call her on it. Instead, he put the knife back in his pocket, laughing softly as he told her, "I don't know what I'd ever do without you, Mabel." An idea popped into his head, one that belonged only to him. "Awkward sibling hug?"

Her face, still too pale for his liking, broke into a grin that started out small, then quickly grew to fill up her whole face. "Awkward sibling hug."

They wrapped their arms around in other, taking comfort in the embrace, then simultaneously patted each other's backs while uttering, "Pat. Pat." in the most ridiculous, robotic tone they could manage.

And as they made their way towards the arch that would lead them out of the Ruins, they found that the uncertainty of what waited for them in this strange world of monsters didn't frighten them quite as much as it had before.


	5. First Impressions

Outside the Ruins, a snow-covered path ran through a forest filled with the towering and bare skeletons of trees. There were no footprints, not even the sound of creatures clawing at bark interrupted the tranquility of the wintry scene.

Once they'd ventured a few steps forward, the door to the Ruins closed behind them, locking them outside. "Guess she was serious, then." Turning his back on the Ruins, Dipper said quietly, almost to himself, "We really can't come back." Wet, cold slush seeped through his socks and sneakers as he strode forward, breaking through the thin top sheet of clear ice that lay beneath a fine dusting of fresh powder. "We should find some shelter, and quick. Neither of us knows where the exit is, so there's no telling how long we're going to be stuck down here." What he really needed was a blank journal and a pen, some way to record everything about the creatures and the magic they'd seen so he could gather all his thoughts together and formulate a plan. There had to be an alternative to wandering around blind and unprepared.

He was so focused on trying to remember everything he'd learned so far about magic, on anything Toriel might have done or said that could help them, on coming up with a logical explanation as to how it could possibly be _snowing_ underground, that he almost didn't notice there were no huffing breaths behind them, no heavy steps, no grumbling, no rustle or swish of fabric. "Mabel?"

He turned quickly, grateful that the snow didn't raise higher than his ankles, though the wind stung at the exposed skin beneath his shorts – it wasn't like he'd known he was going to be hiking through snow in the middle of summer when he'd picked out his outfit – to see Mabel still lingering by the Ruins, a cell phone pressed against her ear.

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

The call dropped with a click. Frustration evident in the deep downward curve of her mouth, she absently pushed a few strands of hair - now made limp and damp by the large clumps of snowflakes dissolving into it - away from her eyes, glanced determinedly at the sealed entrance, and tried again.

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

 _Ring._

After watching this process repeat itself a few more times in silence, Dipper couldn't resist asking, "What are you doing?" She didn't raise her head to acknowledge him, but her finger paused over the call button, hovering with uncertainty, a doubt that had taken root. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and tucked the phone away. When she opened them again, it was to continue to stare at the entrance, as though hoping that this time, maybe, it would open.

And when she finally got around to answering his question, it was with a quiet, subdued tone that didn't feel right coming from a girl he'd once witnessed trying to catch a rainbow with a butterfly net. "I guess... I kind of wanted to hear her voice again."

"How can you still say that?" The words were out before he could stop them. "Even after…" Large black patches of melted sweater stretching over her chest yawned between them like a gaping hole, inevitably drawing their attention. If she hadn't been wearing that sweater, if it hadn't been quite so thick… Mabel probed at the area gingerly, her fingertips brushing against the sunken cluster of warped threads.

"I don't think goat mom meant to hurt us. She was just… really bad at missing."

An amused snort broke the tension. "Yeah. That tends to happen when you run into the attacks, dummy."

Her head shot up, surprise blooming on her face at the unexpected ribbing. "I don't really get what's going on in your head, right now," Dipper admitted with a hint of a shrug. Looking at the burn marks still set his teeth on edge, and he wasn't the one who'd almost died, "but I don't think she wanted to hurt us, either, so I'm pretty sure we're on the same page there, at least." And admitting he was wrong was never easy, this time being no exception, but he pushed past it. It was his fault they didn't have a place to return to, after all. His fault Mabel's first friend in the Underground didn't want to see her again. "Listen, if I'd known you liked her this much, I-"

She shook her head firmly, cutting him off, which was just as well - he'd had no idea what to say next. "You didn't have a choice, Dip." And that was why. Given a chance to do it over, he'd probably choose to wait longer, give his sister a little more time to be happy. "No matter what, we were always going to have to leave, eventually. Spending any more time together would have just made it harder on everyone." Her gaze traveled to the knife in his pocket, the one she must have realized wasn't made of plastic, anymore. And Dipper immediately felt like the scum at the bottom of the ocean, because she knew, she'd seen that the knife was real and she must have thought he'd stolen it from Toriel's kitchen but she wasn't saying anything or accusing him and somehow that just made everything worse. "Thank you for giving her a chance." As she spoke, her hands moved to unravel the second scarf from around her neck, placing it over his shoulders. Immediately, warmth began to seep from the fabric, sinking all the way to the tips of his toes, driving off the worst of the cold with its own inner fire.

It really was enchanted.

Which meant that if they'd stayed just a little longer, they might have gotten to drink hot cocoa made with water boiled by enchanted flames, instead of having them thrown at their heads. Maybe they could have parted on better terms. Maybe Toriel would answer her phone, instead of them leaving them to fend for themselves.

To his shock, Dipper found he had to force down a sudden lump in his throat. It didn't go down without a fight, scraping at the edges of his esophagus like a rock. "I thought about hurting her, Mabel. Really hurting her. Even after what you said before, it didn't feel like she deserved any mercy. Not after…" The words twisted in his throat. "For a second, I thought…"

She waited, and when he didn't continue, tapped his chest gently with a closed first and said, "But you didn't, right? There's a lot of things we can do, but if we don't do things only because we can, then I don't see what the problem is…" Something like shock crossed her face, her expression crumbling into confusion, and then Dipper felt her arms wrap around him, gripping him tight like she was trying to shield him from a threat neither of them could see, and it was only when the cold sting on his cheeks became too much to ignore that he realized he'd started to cry. Embarrassed, he tried to scrub the tears away, but she wouldn't let him lift his arms. "Your heart's in the right place, Dipper. Sometimes, when we're scared, we hurt people by accident. Is it so hard to believe that monsters get scared, too?"

Dipper sniffed, and in a bid to lighten the mood, said, "So… does that mean you're not mad Toriel ruined your favorite sweater?"

Brightening significantly at the mention of one of her favorite topics, Mabel chirped out a, "Nope!" And the sweater came flying off, revealing a thinner, yellow-striped evergreen sweater underneath. "I came prepared!"

* * *

Thirty steps later and Mabel was ready to flop down on the ground, flap her arms, and make some expertly crafted snow angels. Instead, she continued onward, breath steaming in the frosty air, while Dipper muttered something about surviving in the wilderness and staying focused under his breath. Honestly, after the first few sentences, she just started tuning him out.

A flash of blue caught her eye. It disappeared behind a tree before she could catch more than a glimpse of it, but the sneak preview of something that promised to be new and exciting led to her falling behind as she stopped to scan the forest intently for that same flash of blue.

"Okay, from now on, we have to be more careful. No following random monsters to their homes, no accepting food from strangers. We can't expect every monster we meet to be as nice as Toriel was." Her warning about the kids before them, about how all of them had died, dogged his steps, sticking as close to him as his own shadow. "We just have to stay focused…" And he was talking to himself again, wasn't he? "Mabel?" He called, a mite of concern creeping into his voice because he was pretty sure they'd narrowly avoided an extended trip to Sweatertown back at the Ruins, though that might have been because she'd had to talk him out of his own visit, which he was feeling bad about now, and there was always a chance that Mabel could have booked a reservation without him noticing. But, no, that luckily wasn't the case. She'd just fallen behind because she was busy staring at a completely average stick. It's not like they had plenty of those lying on the ground back home or anything.

Hands on her knees so her could bend down for a closer look, Mabel raised her voice to tease, "This stick kind of reminds me of you, Dipper." The next thing she knew she was being dragged backwards by her scarf, a bemused expression crossing her face as her feets were pulled through the snow.

"We have to hurry!" Dipper's teeth chattered. The scarf's magic seemed to be wearing off. "I'm turning into a popsicle here!"

"Heh. A Dipper-sicle." He let go of her, allowing her to trot happily beside him. "We could go back if you want. I didn't think you'd want the sweater but if you're that cold-"

"No, you were right. I don't want it." He shivered. "It's a girl's sweater for one thing and-" He stopped. "Do you hear that?" There should have been only two pairs of feet crunching the snow, yet he could have sworn there was a third, heavier footfall coming from close behind them.

With a mischievous twitch of her lips, Mabel replied, "Nope. Not a thing." A resounding crack echoed down the path. Reluctance making them slow, they peeked over their shoulders to see something had completely shattered the thick branch Mabel had been gawking at before.

Dipper faced forward, stiff as a washboard. "We should start running."

"No arguments here." They took off sprinting in the direction of a nearby bridge, neither of them bothering to look back to see if they were actually being chased. It wasn't until they'd nearly slipped past a row of widely spaced wooden bars that something gripped their feet, sending their upper bodies hurtling forwards while their legs stayed ramrod straight and immovable. Pinwheeling their arms furiously, they were struggling to regain their balance when a low, reverberating voice from too close behind them said, " **Humans. Don't you know how to greet a new pal?** " The pressure on their feet vanished, allowing them to move again, but Dipper had a feeling that running wasn't going to do them much good at this point. A light poke in his ribcage dragged him out of the frantic racing of his thoughts. It felt like coming up for air.

He glanced sideways to see Mabel point urgently at his pocket. "Don't." At some point, he'd stuffed a fist in there. Cool metal tingled pleasantly under his fingers, fitting against his hand like it'd been made with him in mind. Letting out a strangled yelp, he tore his hand away from the metal as though he'd accidentally grabbed a searing hot coal.

" **… I can tell you're eager to shake my hand.** "

Did he just accidentally volunteer himself? Beside him, Mabel shot him an encouraging thumbs up. When they turned around, it was to see a thin hand, white and slender as bone, outstretched, waiting for a one of them to step forward and shake it. Trembling slightly, and with his sister peering eagerly over his shoulder, Dipper swallowed down his nerves, grabbing ahold of the hand with a firm-

PPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT!

The rude, unmistakable noise of a whoopee cushion obliterated any gravitas the monster's intimidating approach had garnered as he doubled over, chuckling along with his sister, who was laughing so hard, her hands clutching her stomach, that Dipper suspected she'd known about the monster and decided to keep that helpful bit of information to herself. He let his hands drop to his sides, completely stupefied that he'd somehow gone from fearing for his life to falling for the most juvenile prank in existence in the space of a millisecond.

Now that he wasn't quaking with fright – though quaking with annoyance wasn't out of the question – he could see the monster wasn't much taller than himself or Mabel. And his fingers weren't just pale or boney – they were actual bones. He was a skeleton, which lead to a slew of new questions that bubbled up to the surface as the skeleton's dry, rasping chuckles began to taper off into a light wheeze.

"How are you speaking right now?" Without meaning to, Dipper fired the question like it'd been launched from a cannon. "You don't have any vocal cords." The skeleton blinked up at him, expression unreadable due to the permanent grin affixed to his face. "How did you do that?"

"don't you think that's a little personal, kid? we've only just met." Brushing the snow off his shorts, the skeleton's brow ridge seemed to dip as he got a good look at him; the lights twinkling in his eye sockets growing dim, like dying fireflies. Shaken by the abrupt change in the monster's mood, Dipper stumbled backwards, fists rising over his chest to provide some paltry and likely useless protection. That was when he spotted the dust caked over his knuckles, made wet and cement-like from mixing with the snow. "how'd you get so dusty, kiddo?"

Without warning, Mabel shot forward to rip open the skeleton's light blue hoodie, a grin lighting up her face as she caught sight of the smooth empty ribcage and spinal column her lightning quick attack had brought to light. "Look, Dipper! He really is all bones!" Closing the hoodie like a pair of shutters brought back the round bulge where his stomach should have been, despite there not being anything there to make the fabric rise. Mabel waved her hand around his ribs to be sure. Empty.

"heh. that's a good one." An impossible blue flush staining his cheekbones, the skeleton gently tugged the hoodie out of her hands and zipped himself up. "be better if i wasn't currently being violated, though." Chastened by the mild reprimand, Mabel nodded apologetically as she took a step back, subtly placing herself between the skeleton and her brother. "you don't have to be afraid of me, kid." He held his hand out again. "i'm sans. sans the skeleton."

"You can call me, Mabel. Because that's my name. _Mabel_ we could be friends?" Waving a hand dismissively at Dipper, she added, "And this is my brother, Dipper. He's not important."

"he's covered in one of us," the skeleton countered in a tone that was almost frighteningly casual. "i'd say that ups his importance quite a bit."

Dipper opened his mouth to say something in his defense, but pleading brown eyes forced his mouth shut with an audible click. She turned back to the skeleton, arms outstretched, heart pounding in her chest like a drum. There was a tightrope under her feet, and every time she paused to think all she could see was how high up she was, but she wasn't the one who'd get hurt if she leaned too far to one side, if she accidentally said the wrong thing and this tentative, fragile peace collapsed. "He didn't mean to. He was just protecting me. He's always got my _backbone_ , you know?"

"Mabel, stop. You don't have to make excuses for me."

Unbeknownst to the two, the jagged angles of the skeleton softened slightly at their exchange, the lights in his sockets glowing a little brighter.

Ignoring Dipper's protests, she rushed ahead with, "The monster attacked us and we were scared and we didn't know what to do… But we know better now! We know we can talk to you and if we all just keep our heads, maybe no one else will have to… get hurt."

But Sans wasn't looking at them, anymore. Something mournful swirled in the shadows cast by his bones as he stared in the direction of the Ruins. "that's too bad."

Dipper stepped forward with his palms open, not content to let his sister do all the talking for him, a headache building in his temples. "Just so there's no confusion here, who is it that you think I killed, exactly?"

"someone who didn't deserve it, mostly." Sans answered without hesitation. "am i wrong?" He wasn't. Whether Dipper had killed one of the monster's friends or someone he'd never met before, it didn't make it any better. Telling himself otherwise would serve the purpose of easing his own mind and nothing else.

But an insidious whisper nestled deep in Dipper's mind countered that it hadn't been a person he'd killed. It'd only been a frog. That couldn't have been as bad as killing a monster or a human. Unlike the last few times a voice had inserted thoughts into his head, this didn't feel out-of-place or unnatural. It was his own voice, his own thought, his own feelings.

But just because he'd thought it himself didn't mean it was automatically right. It wasn't up to him to decide which lives were worth more than others. Ducking his head with remorse, he said, "I'm sorry. It was my fault. I think I scared the frog and that's why it attacked-"

Sans put a hand up to stop him right there. "did you just say frog?"

"Um, yeah?"

"So the old lady's alright?"

"Toriel?" Mabel jumped in. "Yeah, she's great! You'd like her. She really likes puns, too."

"She set Mabel on fire," Dipper muttered sourly.

And though he'd thought Sans wasn't listening, the skeleton replied, "i noticed that, actually. spotted your sweater further down. it looked a little fried."

"Hey, I'm completely fine. Though, you could say her flames were a little… too hot to handle."

While Dipper frowned a frown that drooped all the way to his toes, Sans let out a long, relieved laugh that set his bones clanking like wind chimes. Pretending to wipe a tear away from his eye socket, he said, "that's good to hear, kid. glad you're okay." Then the skeleton went very still, shuddered, and when they had his attention once again, somehow seemed more energized than before. "listen, i'm actually supposed to be on watch for humans, but i don't really care about capturing anybody. now, my brother, papyrus, he's a human-hunting fanatic."

Processing…

Processing…

Nope.

After completely a quick about-face, Dipper replied as he edged away, "Oh, really? Well, that's good to hear. Really hope he finds some, someday. Not today. Maybe not even this week. In fact, we'll just be going now."

"nah. too late. he's already here." Sans shrugged unapologetically. "guess you shouldn't have spent so much time talking to me."

All along, he must have been planning to stall them so his brother could capture them and get a promotion or something. This was what happened when they tried to talk. They got lulled into a false sense of security, only to have the rug swiftly pulled out from under their feet. It was turning into a pattern. "I changed my mind," growled Dipper. "Come on, Mabel, we're going back to the Ruins."

Despite not moving at all, the skeleton managed to appear directly in front of him, blocking his attempted exit. "not sure that's a gate idea. they're locked, they're going to stay locked, and i think you know that you and your sister would freeze to death waiting for them to open. if you go through those bars behind you, there's a town not far from here. you can warm up there."

"In a jail cell? A dungeon?" Dipper spat with enough acid to corrode bone.

The skeleton spread out his hands, mirroring Dipper's earlier pose. "look, you don't have to trust me here, but my brother wouldn't hurt a fly and that's the truth, so you can either take your chances with a door that won't open or take your chances with me. it's up to you. either way, my job gets a lot easier."

Instead of deciding immediately what their next course of action was going to be, Dipper waited for the voice's input, wondering if it had anything to say about Sans, but no words popped into his head. The only voice he heard was his own, and it was small, scared, and unsure. As much as he'd hated and resisted against what it'd been pushing him to do, the thought that he was finally alone in his head again didn't bring with it as much relief as he'd thought it would. It'd known things about the underground and its monsters - lots of things – and even though the possibility of losing his mind had terrified him, every syllable that'd slid its way into his consciousness had been filled with a confidence he'd never felt before.

 _You called for help._

Deep down, Dipper knew there wasn't really a choice. "Okay."

Mabel cheered, running on ahead through what had to be the worst gate ever built and marveling at every new thing she saw, including a snow boulder. Before setting off to join her on the other side, Dipper glanced up at the skeleton, who hadn't shown any signs of following.

"pap's been dying to see a human for a while now, and i really think meeting you two is going to make his day, but… i have to ask… are you really a human?"

 _And something came._

Dipper felt his back stiffen, the blood in his veins slowing to a trickle as the temperature around them dropped to freezing and light itself seemed to disappear, sucked into two empty sockets staring so deep that something in him, some piece of him, cringed at the unwelcome scrutiny.

And then it was over. The light came rushing back into their surroundings, the skeleton grinned easily.

"ah, you know what? nevermind. i thought something was setting off my sans-es but you seem pretty human to me." He walked through the bars with practiced ease, chuckling under his breath as the girl skipped over the snow, long clumps of brown hair flopping against her back, and tried to fit behind an inconveniently shaped lamp. The shade was too short, her hair was in full view, giving the lamp the appearance of having flowing locks that swayed and shook as she tried not to laugh. "you better catch up to her. seems like the type to get into trouble when you take your sockets off her." And as much as he didn't want to do a single thing the skeleton asked him to do, Dipper conceded the point. Things always seemed to work out when they stuck together. "oh, but before you go," though the skeleton had his back to him, there was a slight, unmistakable echo to his voice, enough to remind Dipper of an instinctual fear he hadn't felt since he'd stopped being afraid of the dark, "use the snow to wipe that dust off of you. don't let my brother see it."

After dropping to his knees, Dipper scrubbed at his hands and shirt until the skin glowed pink and fresh, angry at being singled out, and ashamed, because in a land of monsters, he probably deserved it. If some stranger had walked out of a neighbor;s house covered in blood, wouldn't he be wary of them, too? If he thought of it like that, then the monsters were actually being more forgiving than most humans would be.

Regardless of what Sans had said, the rapid crunch of fast approaching footsteps sent Dipper's heart galloping with panic. Dropping the partially melted snow, he raced across the narrow bridge, zooming past Sans, only to find that he couldn't fit behind the lampshade with his sister – she didn't even fit behind it – and there wasn't any other lamps for him to hide behind. "sorry, kid. wasn't expecting this much company. try to improvise."

…Was Sans always this helpful?

There wasn't any time to dive behind the counter of the nearby sentry station, so Dipper marched next to the lamp, raised his hands over his head, stood very still, and thought lamp thoughts. _Light. Dark. Clap on. Clap off. I am a lamp._

Sans was looking at him like he couldn't believe his good luck. Then another skeleton zoomed onto the scene. "hey, papyrus, 'sup?"

"YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT'S 'SUP, BROTHER! YOU HAVEN'T RECALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES!" It came across sounding like a well-worn conversation between siblings, though the family resemblance was… questionable. Where Sans was wide, almost squished, from head to toe, Papyrus was tall and elongated; wearing a long, reddish-orange scarf around his neck with matching boots and gloves. There were blue briefs over his pelvis bones and a bulky white torso piece over his upper body. He looked just like a little kid dressed as a superhero for Halloween. Once he'd finished stomping his feet in frustration at his brother's laziness, though Dipper preferred lazy Sans over inexplicably terrifying, Papyrus asked Sans what he was doing. Because whatever it was, it wasn't work.

And then Sans did his best to get them caught. "staring at this – uh - these lamps. do you wanna look?" Papyrus was offended by the thought of staring an inanimate object for even a moment, which was just as well because Dipper's lamp pose wasn't very convincing when actually observed. In fact, it was at its most convincing when no one looked at it. At all. Ever.

Which was why it was fortunate that Papyrus was too busy monologuing about joining something called the Royal Guard to notice the numerous differences that would surely give him away. Except Sans kept trying to get him to look at the lamps.

Well, at least he'd apparently meant it when he said his brother was harmless. This guy couldn't catch a fried chicken in a grocery store.

Papyrus paused mid-sentence, his sockets wide with puzzlement as he knelt down on the snow to peered closely at the closest 'lamp.'

"THIS LAMP BARES AN UNCANNY RESEMBLANCE TO A HUMAN." Strike that. Spoke too soon. Never speaking again.

"yeah, it's a special edition." Sans explained. "just because it looks like a human doesn't mean it is one, bro."

Poking a finger through Mabel's curtain of hair, the taller skeleton exclaimed, "THIS LAMP IS VERY GIGGLY, BROTHER!"

"way to hang a lampshade on that, pap."

"SANS! I AM SERIOUS. THERE IS SOMETHING STRANGE ABOUT THESE LAMPS." He reached behind the lamp, hands finding something soft, and lifted up a squirming child.

The taller skeleton's jaw dropped so far it nearly fell off its hinges.

"um… busted?"


	6. Something New

There was no saving this.

Still stuck in disbelief, Papyrus poked Mabel's side, letting out a surprised gasp when the human child threw her arms around him, latching onto him like an overeager puppy. "I've got you!" She glanced down at Dipper, a reassuring smile spreading across her face as she shouted out for the world to hear, "I've captured a skeleton!"

The skeleton's jaw was working, struggling to form words, when Dipper decided there was no point in pretending to be a lamp anymore and stepped into his line of vision. And if the skeleton's sockets had contained actually eyeballs, they'd have popped out of skull. Feeling embarrassed by the rapt attention, Dipper waved awkwardly. "SANS? HAVE I BEEN CAPTURED BY TWO HUMANS?!"

With a nonchalant shrug, Sans drawled, "that does seem to be the case, bro."

"BUT WHY DO THEY LOOK ALIKE? DO ALL HUMANS LOOK ALIKE?"

"We're twins!" piped up Mabel as she hung from his neck, thoroughly amused by the goofy skeleton's wide-eyed gawking. Even Dipper had to admit that this entire encounter had gone in an unexpected direction, and chuckled under his breath. As far as he could tell, there wasn't any threat here. Not from the taller skeleton, at least.

After hearing that, Papyrus stood up, glowing with an enthusiasm that could dwarf the sun, and started spinning the human girl in excited circles. "WOWIE! TWO HUMANS!" After a few more revolutions, he set her down with a surprising amount of care, and once she regained her balance, she beamed brightly up at him, a little dizzy but very much okay. "NYEH HEH HEH! I HAVE FREED MYSELF FROM YOUR SMALL HANDS, HUMAN! NOW, I WILL CAPTURE YOU AND TAKE YOU TO UNDYNE. SHE'LL BE SO PROUD, SHE'LL LET ME JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD, FOR SURE!"

This sounded like a reasonable, if mildly worrying, assumption, except the twins had no idea who or what he was talking about. "Do we have to go see Undyne right now?" Puffing out her cheeks and batting her eyelashes, Mabel asked, "Can't it wait just a little while?"

Was that a trick of the light or was the skeleton blushing? "WELL, IT WOULD BE A SHAME IF ALL THE PUZZLES MY BROTHER AND I WORKED SO HARD ON WENT TO WASTE." He scratched his cheekbone, appearing deep in thought, as though imagining all the puzzles they'd made going unsolved for the rest of time. After pondering for a moment the possible consequences of delaying his report, he turned his attention back to the children. "I SUPPOSE SHE CAN WAIT A LITTLE WHILE. WHAT SHE DOESN'T KNOW CAN'T MAKE HER THROW COUCHES AT MY HEAD, RIGHT?"

"That's the spirit!" Mabel crowed. "She'll let you into the Royal Guard or whatever, for sure. Now, let's go find your puzzles." She chose a random direction and started marching off into it. A skeletal finger hooked under her scarf, and she squeaked, then tilted her head back far enough to see Sans had somehow crossed the distance between them, appearing behind her without making a sound.

"i wouldn't wander off if i were you. not every monster's as cute and cuddly as my bro." He wasn't looking at her as spoke. Gaze sharp and searching, he was focused on something hidden amongst the trees. When nothing moved, he seemed to relax a little, and his phalanges uncurled. When he spoke again, the underlying warning in his tone was gone, but Mabel couldn't help but think that hanging out with Sans, though not outright off-putting, was a little exhausting. It was a little like driving in a car with someone who had a habit of abruptly speeding up and slowing down, until you'd spilled all your juice and your neck hurt. "since it seems like pap and i are gonna be sticking around, i guess i can snow off a little." He spun around on his heel, walking in the complete opposite direction of where Papyrus had arrived. The moment he turned his back, a flicker of gold peeked out from the base of a nearby tree, though it vanished so quickly that Mabel was almost convinced she'd imagined it.

"Should we stop him?" Dipper asked half-heartedly, and once Sans was already well out of sight.

With a resigned shake of his head, Papyrus answered, "THAT IS NOT NECESSARY. HE DOES THIS, SOMETIMES." In the distance, a canine let out a distressed yelp and Mabel took off running, ignoring the branches snagging her clothes in the face of possibly leaving a dog in trouble.

Dipper and Papyrus hurried after her without hesitation, though Dipper had to run three times faster than usual just to keep up with the skeleton's longer strides. And even then, something told him the skeleton was restraining himself, slowing his pace so Dipper wouldn't fall too far behind.

"Who's there?!" There was another clearing along the path, this one much like the one before, except the sentry attending this station was actually doing his job. It was a chocolate-colored, shorthaired dog that stood on its hind legs, its long, narrow muzzle jutting out over the counter as it frantically tried to find the source of the noise it'd heard. Dipper froze. "I know you're there!" Sans was standing motionless about a foot away from the sentry's nose, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He seemed to be having fun. Just as Mabel was about to call out, his image blurred, becoming indistinct as the world warped around him, and then a bony palm appeared on the dog's head, petting it gently.

Judging by the dog's reaction, it'd had about twelve cups of espresso with its breakfast, because it shot through the roof, jerking wildly in panic and confusion as it tried to comprehend how something it couldn't see had managed the herculean feat of petting its head. Sans chuckled, giving away his presence. "heya, doggo. i was just passing through and thought i'd pay ya visit."

"Sans!" Doggo barked. "I should have known it was you. How many times have I asked you not to approach my station without moving?!"

"not sure. _canine_ ask a friend?" While Doggo was busy berating the skeleton for what was apparently a prank he pulled often, Sans surreptitiously waved them forward, though the wave was more of a slow curl of his fingers, suggesting they'd have to proceed slowly and quietly. Surprisingly, Papyrus was quite capable of moving quietly when he put his mind to it, and moved with little more sound than that made by a dead leaf scraping against a root. Dipper and Mabel, on the other hand, had a much tougher time silencing their steps.

When they were almost in the clear and Sans' conversation - if making terrible puns while being scolded by a dog could be called conversation - was nearing its close, there was a echoing snap. Dipper spun around to see Mabel gaping at a broken twig under her heel, then she raised her head to reveal a guilty, hangdog expression.

Doggo's head snapped to her direction. "Who was that?! Who's there?"

"HELLO!" Papyrus called as he stomped loudly past the twins, "THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE TO MAKE YOUR DAY INFINITELY BETTER!" His steps wound up making so much noise that they concealed any sounds Dipper and Mabel made as they quickened their strides and ducked behind a particularly thick trunk. While Doggo grumbled out a greeting for Papyrus, the loud, constantly moving skeleton whose example he rather wished Sans would follow, Sans found them huddling behind the treeline and winked.

"Guess he wants us to go ahead," Dipper murmured. "Let's get out of here. That dog may be blind and totally unfit for sentry duty, but his hearing works just fine and I doubt Papyrus can keep him distracted forever."

Pouting a little, Mabel replied, "I kind of wanted to pet him."

"But he's a sentry? And crazy? And it's literally his job to capture us and take us to someone who may or may not want us dead? That makes no sense!"

"The heart wants what it wants, Dipper," Mabel said with the air of a great sage imparting invaluable wisdom upon a simpleton. Shaking his head, Dipper decided he'd never understand girls.

* * *

There was a plate full of frozen spaghetti not too far ahead. Dipper poked it, then picked up the fork sticking out of the pasta to find the entire plate lifted off the table with it. "How are we supposed to eat this?"

There was a microwave, as Mabel helpfully pointed out, but no place to plug it in. According to the note Papyrus had left by the plate, he'd cooked it for any human that fell into the Underground, which meant it could have been sitting out in the cold for any length of time – weeks, even. Months. No wonder it was a brick.

"Mabel, I can't eat this."

"You have to, bro bro. It's the only polite thing to do here."

"Then why don't you eat it?" Mabel parted her lips to show off the metal braces adorning her white teeth. The dentist had told her to stay away from spaghetti, but Dipper had an inkling that she was just using the braces as an excuse to get out of eating the solid block of frozen pasta. "Right. Look, why don't we just tell Papyrus we appreciate the thought but you have braces and I'm… allergic?" He waited for Mabel to say something as he continued poking the inedible meal, then looked over his shoulder to see she was staring into the woods, brow creased with uncertainty. "Is it Sans and Papyrus? Do you see them?" He didn't think it was them. If it was, she'd have said something already, but he wanted it to be them. He really, really did. Because the alternative was a new, possibly threatening monster, and he didn't want to believe that Mabel would see something that could hurt them and keep silent about it. Not even for a second. Ever since they'd escaped the Ruins together, he'd found himself relying on her judgment, leaning on her support more and more, because for the first time in years, it felt like he had someone to lean on. And he didn't want that feeling to go away. Not when he'd only had it for such a short time.

Instead of answering him right away, a flash of something between regret and fear stole over her features, then she forced her mouth into the shape of a smile and chuckled, but the sound came out hollow. Fake. "Why don't you stay here for a sec and work on that spaghetti? I'm gonna go check to see how the skelebros are doing." Without waiting for a response, she darted off into the woods, leaving Dipper with a plate of food he couldn't eat and a microwave that didn't work.

With a strangled cry of frustration, he picked up the plate of spaghetti and tossed it into the snow. It disappeared without a trace, swallowed up by white and grey. Really, who'd have thought getting rid of it without Papyrus finding out would be so easy? Toss it into the snow: Problem solved.

Building on that train of thought, he pulled the knife out of his pocket, lifting it up with every intention of tossing it, too. Ever since he'd gotten his hands on it, things had started to go wrong. Sans didn't like him, which would have been fine if the skeleton wasn't the only guide they had, and his sister was leaving him behind. If he could just-

Time skipped forward and it vanished from his hand, disappearing into thin air. Panicked, Dipper started searching the snow around him, wondering if he'd dropped it. Hoping he'd dropped it. But he should have known it wouldn't be anything so mundane. The knife was back in his pocket, gleaming in the artificial light of the Underground with its edge as sharp and lethal as ever. He pulled it out again, fully intending to throw it as far as his thin arms could manage, only for it vanished again. Heart sinking, he dug into his pockets until his fingers brushed against its handle, then flinched away from it, hunching over like he'd been punched in the stomach.

He couldn't get rid of it. The _thing_ wouldn't let him.

A sensation like molten gold and oil surged through his chest, climbing up his throat, and he sank into the melting slush with a short, shallow gasp. Then the feeling passed, replaced by something so numb and empty he almost preferred the slimy, burning wetness crawling under his ribcage. Letting his head fall into his hands, Dipper barked out a laugh tinged with hysteria. If he left the Underground like this, everyone he cared about would be in danger. That meant the best thing he could do for his family was get Mabel home, get her home safe so she could tell their parents... that he was sorry, that he'd come home as soon as he could. And then maybe he'd find a monster who knew something about possession. There had to be someone who knew what it was that was going on with him. There had to be something he could do. There had to be a way to fix this.

And, sure, he'd never solved the mystery to becoming popular or gaining respect, but this was the supernatural. This was monsters and magic and things that were too strange to explain without tangible proof. In other words, everything he'd been obsessed with since he learned how to read.

He could do this.

He could solve this.

All he had to do was try.

But the cold felt nice against his forehead and he still had to wait for Mabel, so until someone came back and he had to stand up again, he was just going to... to sit in the snow... and do his best... not to think about anything at all.

* * *

With his stem bent as he peered out from the base of a particularly thick tree, Flowey watched as the human children tried to decide what to do with Papyrus' terrible cooking. They'd argued about it without heat, and though the girl's constant upbeat attitude and cavity-inducing sweetness had once had him convinced that she was nothing like his best friend, there was an unexpected manipulative streak in her, or at least enough of one that she didn't mind using her cuteness to get what she wanted. Watching the way the girl and her brother, who complained and grumbled but ultimately looked at her with a fondness so clear it set off an ache in the empty space where his soul should have been, brought memories boiling to the surface that the flower preferred not think about. And the note of familiarity the girl's back-up sweater stirred wasn't helping. Who even wandered around with an emergency back-up sweater, anyway? Okay, Frisk sometimes traveled through the Underground in a tutu and ballet slippers, but even they weren't that crazy.

He could have sworn he was perfectly hidden, but the girl somehow managed to catch sight of him again. He'd thought she might have seen him after Sans had warned him off, and he'd been sure of it when catching sight of him caused her to accidentally step on that twig, but this was getting ridiculous. Frisk was never this observant. Of course, they also walked around with their eyes closed, so maybe it wasn't so much that he was excellent at hiding as the bar set for him had been rather low.

Wait… The boy was alone now. Where'd the girl go? "Hey!" Flowey twisted around on his stalk with a hiss. Somehow, the girl had snuck up right behind him, fists planted on her hips. "Why are you following me and my bro? Still trying to kill us?" She paused, taking in the flower's scowl, then slowly, tentatively added, "Or maybe… you're lonely?"

"No!" Flowey snapped, drawing himself up to his full height. "I just don't have anything better to do, okay? And what about you? Don't you have anything better to do? Smiley Trashbag won't like it if he finds out you're talking to me."

"Smiley Trashbag?" Confused, the girl followed a hunch, thinking of the way Sans had suddenly gotten all weird when she'd almost marched off on her own. Hadn't that been right before she'd noticed Flowey was following them for the first time? Not that she'd figured that out until later. "Is that supposed to be Sans?"

"What? Do you want a medal?" As usual, the flower's voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and crackling impaitence. "Gold star for you. Yes, I mean the skeleton. Who else could I be talking about?"

She hesitated, throwing an odd look towards the part of the path where the skeletons would likely be appearing any minute. "Sans is… kind of scary, sometimes. I mean, he hasn't tried to kill us or anything, unlike a certain someone…" there was definitely a note of accusation there, "but I'm not 100% sure he doesn't want to." Absently twirling a lock of hair around a finger, she added, "At least with you, I kind of know where you stand, I guess."

In response to her admission, Flowey gaped at her, making her bristle defensively under his unblinking gaze, but before she could raise her voice to add a heated remark, he threw his head back, cackling with unchecked glee. "Ha! You should tell him that. I'd love to see the look on his face when you…" A frustrated shout tore through the air like a nail ripping through fabric. The girl stared over him, turning pale, and the flower swiveled to see the other human she'd left in the clearing with his best friend's knife lifted over his head. There was a tremor traveling up his arm, his whole body tensed as though prepared to throw it into the distance, lose it forever, and then a wave of calm appeared to sweep over him as his entire posture changed from anxious to self-assured and confident. Cocky. From a glimpse of his side profile, it seemed the boy was smirking, and in one fluid motion, the knife was placed back in his pocket.

"I knew it," the girl whispered. "Something's wrong." There was another shift and the boy started frantically digging through the snow around him, then patted himself down until his hands reached his shorts, and stiffened, realization creeping into his mind like a steady drip of poison. It was like watching a wild animal realize it'd been caught in a trap. "Dipper." She stepped forward, forgetting for a moment that Flowey was even present, until a vine curled around her ankle, pulling her foot out from under her as it yanked her to the ground. Surprise bloomed over her expression, quickly replaced by anger as the boy struggled to throw the weapon into the woods again. "Let me go," she snarled with so much radiating fury that Flowey half-expected the snow to start melting around her.

Finally.

Something _new._

When the boy collapsed, the girl reacted by kicking out at him, clawing at the vines around her leg as she opened her mouth to scream. Another leathery vine whipped over her mouth, silencing her, and she sank her teeth into it, flooding her taste buds with the bitter taste of chlorophyll.

 **"heya."**

Both the girl and the flower went very still as a flickering blue light stained the patch of snow between them. Flowey shivered, a chill running up his stem as the memories of more deaths than he could count replayed themselves in an endless loop.

"now, is this any way to treat a lady?"


	7. Promises To Keep

Long strands of brown hair stiffened, floating off the ground before Mabel's eyes. The sight, while not making up for her capture, stunned her into mystified silence. It reminded her of what happened after rubbing sock-covered feet on a fuzzy carpet, after getting shocked by a doorknob. Then the air sang with a low, building whine, a noise which rose over a deep undulating growl, and the blue light became blinding. She had to squint through the fingers she'd thrown over her eyes to see the thin silhouette of Flowey's form standing in stark relief against the ground, all shadows and bleached white.

Despite the roar, she managed to make out, "Planning on getting in my way again, Trashbag?"

"yep."

There was a long, drawn out hiss as the vines gradually uncurled from her legs, peeled away from her face, and she seized the opportunity, clawing and kicking and scratching for better purchase as she scrambled to her feet. Once standing, she didn't hesitate, instead taking off without thinking, without bothering to glance behind her beyond a quick, backward glimpse over her shoulder as she sprinted towards the path where her brother lay frozen, curled up into a tight ball and still.

And the monsters watched her go, her shrinking back never leaving their sight.

* * *

Once the girl was safely out of Flowey's range, which he knew from experience was farther than the plant's unfairly harmless appearance would suggest, Sans dispersed the Gasterblaster hovering a few feet over his head, letting its fully charged blast dissolve into the surrounding atmosphere with an almost irritated crackle of pent up magic. Upon realizing Sans had been bluffing, too caught up in his ways to risk a instigating a battle that would surely draw the attention of his brother, the flower let out a hollow cackle. "Oh, you do love to be the hero, don't you? Even though we both know you've never truly saved anyone."

"not sure you're in a good position to judge, _bud_." Sans shuffled forward, stopping only when the shadow he cast loomed over every visible inch of the soulless monster.

It wasn't enough to cower Flowey, however. If anything, he only grew bolder with the knowledge that Sans was in a position to literally end his life with a snap of his fingers, and yet was choosing not to. Because despite all of his pitiful whining and incessant moping, the thought of changing events to the point where they became unrecognizable, of suddenly finding himself faced with actions that led to unknown consequences and no clue as to how to combat or prevent them, it frightened him, restraining his wrath like shackles he'd made and locked himself.

Better the enemy you know and all that, right?

Heh.

How utterly _pathetic_.

"Of course," Flowey drawled, "that's your job, isn't it? Not that you ever actually do your job. The fact that those two are still alive is proof of that." Sans chuckled without anything resembling humor. Whatever it was that burned in his chest like ice, it was much darker than that. "You can act like you don't care all you want, but even you can't deny that little thrill of excitement fluttering in that empty chest of yours. I know because I feel it, too. That human over there's on the verge of losing his mind and neither of us have any idea why. Isn't that great?" Returning to his default form, Flowey continued, a touch of wistfulness creeping in, "It's almost like experiencing something for the first time."

"yeah, i've been meaning to ask you about that. ya sure you don't have anything to do with it?

Thinking back, Flowey wasn't. "It's possible," he started, weighing the impact each addition syllable had upon the skeleton, though the purposefully blank expression on his skull made it infuriatingly difficult to pick up more than the mildest interest, "that some of my more recent memories were altered."

Almost immediately after he finished speaking, the atmosphere changed, becoming charged, like the moment between the cocking of a gun and the firing of a bullet. "a reset?" Sans asked warily, and though he was careful not to betray too much interest lest the plant decide the information was worth a price, it was obvious that his composure was slipping. Resets were a sore spot with him, after all. And even cracks that started out small could one day bring down a mountain.

"That was what I thought, and an early one at that, except those Resets shouldn't affect me. What I'm thinking now is there might be a new player in our midst, something that either has Determination or managed to siphon some off the humans."

"or it's in them," came the quiet, nearly inaudible reply.

Well, _that_ was an interesting theory. "You think a monster's soul slipped into the brother, somehow?"

Sans lifted his shoulders in a shrug as he shoved his hands back into his pockets, already preparing to leave as his attention began to drift elsewhere. With that said, when his right brow bent to approximate a wink, his left socket stayed focused on the soulless monster poking out of the Earth, wide and unblinking. "just entertaining possibilities. at this point, your guess is as good as mine."

A long silence followed that Sans made no effort to break. Once it became clear that he wasn't going to elaborate, and the silence began to become too strained to bear, Flowey bristled, narrowing his eyes with annoyance. "Sooo, are you going to let me go or what? Papyrus is going to catch up soon and I don't think you'd want him running into you while you're looking quite so," the flower stretched its mouth into a cruel, sharp-edged imitation of a smile, "scary."

But if the words had any effect on the skeleton, he didn't show it. He did, however, look as though there was something he wanted to say. Out of sight, his fingers curled into fists as a single drop of sweat dripped down the side of his skull, then he shook himself, muttering, "yeah, fine. get out of here before i change my mind." At this point, Flowey was more than happy to. "and for future reference, i'd suggest you stay away from the humans. 'til i know what's going on, i'm playing things safe, so if i see you near either one of those kids again or if pap so much as mentions a friendly talking flower to me..." An unnaturally deep reverberation entered his voice as any semblance of affability vanished so completely it was hard to believe it'd ever existed in the first place, **"then it doesn't matter who you were before alphys grounded you, you're gonna have a very bad time."**

Alphys? Somebody's been sticking their noseless face into places where it doesn't belong.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sans." It dripped from the jagged tear stretching across his face like droplets of nectar mixed with venom. "I believed even you would be curious. Now, tell me the truth: You haven't once wondered what Asgore will do when faced with this little dilemma?" Back by the cleared path, the sound of surprised laughter hit the air. It was quickly joined by another, the two drifting through the trees like a song. Flowey canted his head towards the source, an unpleasant glint in his dark eyes. "The barrier requires seven souls. Only one more is required to break it, and yet if my eyes don't deceive me, two children walked out of the Ruins. What do you think your dear king will do? Leave one child alive to hate us all? Or snatch their soul just to spare them the utter torment of living on without their sibling?" Sans twitched, the movement barely perceivable in the dim grey light filtering through the fog. Still, Flowey noticed, and his grin widened to an unsettling length, like a wound cut into a corpse. "Oh, I can guess what he'd do next. But not knowing for sure… It excites you, doesn't it?"

Instead of answering the question, Sans replied, "if it's a kindred spirit you're after, i'm afraid you're out of luck. you and me? we're not the same, and i'm not going to change my mind on that so you can stop trying to convince me otherwise."

"Sure. It's not like you've ever taken sick pleasure in repeatedly and ruthlessly murdering a child or anything, right? Face it, Trashbag, we're both unfeeling freaks trapped in a prison made of glass. The only difference between me and you is you still have your SOUL." Smirking, the flower gave voice to an observation he could only hope would drive the knife in deeper, past the calluses grown over his guarded heart and into the vulnerable parts, the parts that ached, the parts that stubbornly continued to bleed. "And yet even with your precious SOUL, you're just as empty as I am." Then he burrowed into the snowdrift, satisfied that he'd gotten the last word this round.

And after a moment of standing alone in the woods, Sans gave his head a rueful, deliberate shake of his head. "jeez, couldn't leave without sticking it to me one last time, huh? what a _kid_."

* * *

Branches creaked and snapped as someone or something approached with all the easy grace of a stampeding rhino, prompting Dipper to lift his head up just enough to see what was going on. Almost immediately after he raised his head, Mabel came bursting from the trees, kicking up white clouds as she skidded to an abrupt halt. Her gaze darted around and behind her, nervous, scared, but then it came to rest solely to him, becoming so focused he feel the pressure on his forehead. He opened his mouth, torn between asking what happened and fumbling to come up with a reason for why he was such a mess. His brain blanked. "Mabel?" Her name came out muffled, thick, barely comprehensible. And then he couldn't speak. Her arms were too tight, her sweater warm as it pressed against him, and he leaned into the embrace, too tired to fight it, too tired to care about how humiliating it would be if someone happened to see them like this. His breathing hitched, catching in his throat, but he refused to cry. Not again. He wasn't going to give it the satisfaction of making him shed one more tear. "Jeez, Dippingsauce," Mabel huffed, mindful to smooth out the strained edge threatening to cut into her voice, "did you decide to go ahead and play in the snow without me? You could have just waited."

Blinking snowflakes off of his lashes, Dipper wiped some of the half-melted slush from his cheeks and chin as he began to adamantly insist that he hadn't been playing around. "What? No, I-"

Mabel waited paitently for him to continue, slightly disappointed when it became clear that Dipper had no such plans. He rested his head on her shoulder. It was obvious to him that Mabel was too tense, coiled like a spring, overwound and exhausted, but it didn't stop her from curving her lips into a small, honest smile when she apologized for running off without him.

"It's fine," Dipper muttered, "I shouldn't be freaking out like this every time you leave for two seconds." But that wasn't all there was to it, right? There was something he didn't want to talk about, and Mabel was sure that all the weird stuff she'd been noticing, like the strange way he'd started speaking when he'd tried to tell her what was going on with him, and the creepy way he'd pocketed the knife before, were both connected to it.

A thoughtful frown, so like him Mabel could have cheered, tugged at the corners of his mouth. Straightening, he reminded her, "But this is a new place and we still don't know where we're going so you definitely shouldn't be wandering off. I told you this before, and-" Moving quickly, Mabel plucked Dipper's cap off his head and ruffled his hair. "Hey, Mabel, stop! Don't mess up my-" The cap was plopped firmly back onto his head, smooshing the hair underneath it.

While Dipper tried to return his hair to its former glory, grumbling all the while, Mabel tried to decide whether or not bringing up what she'd seen, the really strange way he was acting, was worth the risk of filling his head back up with all the awful thoughts that had made him hunch over on the ground in the first place. Then again, if she just left it like this, nothing was going to change, and whatever was happening was only going to get worse.

Right now, there was still something she could do, so didn't that mean she had to try?

After sucking down a deep, calming breath, she called his name to get his attention. And he looked up, confused at her sudden change in tone, at the somber expression on her face, and she tried to smile again, wanted to more than anything, but the confusion turned to concern as she tried. Now that it seemed like Dipper was pulling himself back together, it was getting harder for her not to fall apart. The sensation of thorns pressing against her skin lingered, black and blue dots sometimes burst like fireworks in her vision, slowly fading, and even though Sans had saved her, even though she was safe now and probably owed the pun-loving skeleton the biggest apology ever, she were still so scared.

But Dipper was, too. Probably even more than she was.

Which why she needed to be brave.

Reaching out for his hand, Mabel swallowed, and then tentatively broached the subject neither of them truly wanted to talk about. "Why don't you let me get rid of the knife?"

The answer came even faster than she'd expected. "No."

"Why not?" Mabel challenged. "You don't even like carrying it around, right?" He quickly shook his head, the fear of a cornered animal already returning. "I may not know exactly what's going on, but I'm going to help, okay?" Seeing Dipper getting ready to bolt, she sighed, feeling her resolve harden. "Whether you like it or not." The reaction was immediate. Dipper tried to pull away, horrified by the thought of what might happen to her if she tried to take the weapon from him, and Mabel lunged forward, intending to dispose of the knife by force if she had to, when an open palm slammed into her, shoving her with enough force to lay her out flat on her back. Ice seeped into the back of her sweater, and as she sat up, her teeth began to chatter.

The gamble had backfired spectacularly. It was easy that to see as Dipper had scrabbled away without bothering to stand or even turn his back on her. And even now that he'd increased the distance between them by a few feet, his limbs were still taunt, ready to move if she made another grab for the knife.

"Sorry, Dipper." She felt heavy. Cold. Sad. Dipper helped her all the time, but now that he needed her to do something for him, she'd failed in every way imaginable. And now he might not trust her again. "I thought-"

"It's not the knife that's the problem." Her head shot up. Dipper hadn't moved any closer, and he was still staring at her, but he seemed a little calmer, not as prepped to run. "Actually, I've kind of been expected something like this to happen ever since you found out about it. To be honest, I'm really more surprised that you waited this long."

"I thought that if I just gave you some time, you'd tell me what was going on with you on your own. That was what you wanted, right?" He'd been so upset outside the Ruins, she hadn't wanted to push him, not when he was already stretched thin. Nothing good would come from pressing too hard against a sheet of tissue paper. And it'd been a while since she'd seen him flinch like someone was driving a nail into his brain.

"No! Well, yes. I wanted to talk to you! I tried to tell you what was going on right before we fought Toriel, but it - something happened and you couldn't understand what I was saying… and I guess I'm just afraid of what'll happen if I try again. I think the first time was supposed to be a warning." And the next time – _warm red liquid dripped over his hands, running over the skin between his fingers_ – the next time could be so much worse. He looked down at his hands, seeing nothing but skin glowing pink with cold, and then two chilled palms slid over them, and all he could see was a pair of hands around the same size as his, the same color, the same shape. They were steady, firm and strong, and more than willing to share some of that strength with him.

"You have a plan, right?" He raised his head, a silent question expressed through the quirking of an eyebrow. "Don't play dumb with me, mister," Mabel added sternly, semi-seriously wagging a finger, "you always have a plan."

Guilty as charged. "Well, I guess you could say I've got part of a plan." Mabel nodded eagerly, urging him to continue. "Sans said there's a town not far from here. Well, towns usually have libraries, right? So I'm going to go through every book until I find one that tells me exactly what's going on and how to stop it."

Which meant they'd have to stay underground longer. Maybe even days. And who knew if they would even find anything helpful? For all he knew, he could be stuck like this, constantly losing control, constantly worrying about hurting someone. It was better if she went home. "Okay. So we check the library, and then what? We ask around?"

"No" Dipper said, keeping his voice steady, "not we. Me. I'm going to stay behind and look for a cure or a spell or an exorcism. You're going home."

At first, Mabel was positive she'd heard him wrong. There was no way he could honestly think that she would ever leave him behind, but then he didn't say anything else, didn't take it back or offer to explain things better, and it stung. For some reason, he didn't want her around.

But why not?

Was it because she wasn't smart enough? Did he think she'd only get in the way? Was it because she kept messing up and getting hurt and he didn't want to have to look after her anymore?

"Mabel?"

Her vision went blurry. She batted at her eyes, trying to clear it. This wasn't – She needed to think of something to say. Anything. She needed to convince him not to ask her to go, but her mind was buzzing with too many thoughts all crashing into each other, coalescing into confused nonsense that wailed like static. And she tried to speak anyway, and she wasn't sure what came out but it must have been the static in her head, because Dipper was suddenly much closer to her, his arms wound around her back. A giggle fluttered in her chest as she remembered just how recently she'd been the one hugging him.

"Hey, don't- I won't make you go, okay? You can stay with me and we'll figure this out together, so please stop crying." He hadn't expected her to burst into tears. Maybe she'd thought he was asking her to find a way home by herself? Not a chance. He would have walked with her every step of the way, but if this was her reaction, then he just couldn't ask her to leave again. Really, twelve years of growing up with her should have rendered him immune to this, and he mostly was whenever she was only pretending, but this was real and frightened, and maybe she wasn't bleeding but this was just hurting her in a different way, something sending her home was supposed to prevent.

Things would've been easier if she'd just agreed, but maybe, secretly, he'd been counting on her to stay. And he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Mabel sniffed, rubbing the tears away with a fuzzy green sleeve. "You mean it?"

Relieved to see she was calming down, Dipper worked hard to muster up a sure grin. The result turned out a little too grim for his liking, but he was learning to make due with what he had, and Mabel didn't seem to mind. "There's not a single person in the whole universe I'd rather be surrounded by monsters with."

A hesitant yet grateful smile tugged at the corners of her lips, shining in her eyes, and Dipper felt his own spirits lift at the sight. Then he received a solid punch to the shoulder. Protesting, Dipper rubbed the smarting skin with a scowl. "Don't scare me like that again. I really thought you wanted me to leave." He had. "Because I'm not smart like you. Because I'm too silly." Never. Regardless of what anyone - adults, other kids - said, he'd never once believed that his sister wasn't smart, and there was nothing wrong with being a little silly, 'd all see how wrong they were after she grew up to become the world's first sticker obsessed president.

"I just want you to be safe, Mabel." At least one of them had to make it home.

"I _am_ safe. And as long as we stick together, I'll always _be_ safe." When Dipper still looked unconvinced, Mabel decided she'd had enough seriousness to last her an entire month, puffed up her cheeks, and clapped her hands over them, forcing the air past her lips with a wet noise that bore uncanny resemblance to Sans' whoopee cushion.

Once the sound petered out, Dipper gawked at her with blatant disbelief. "Did you just-" She did it again. "Okay, that's e-" And again. "I mean it, Mabel-" And again.

Finally, Dipper couldn't take it anymore. An arm wrapped around his stomach as he snickered, "You're ridiculous." And Mabel was only too glad to accept the comment as the praise it was, noting with no small amount of satisfaction as some of the harsh worry lines finally began to melt from her brother's forehead.

A pair of footsteps approached the clearing, one stomping and aggravated, the other light and unobtrusive. Without the first, the twins may not have even noticed the second.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU LEFT ME BEHIND BACK THERE." Mabel shared an amused glance with her brother as a fire engine red boot swung into view.

"oh, come on, pap," came the reply as pink slippers shuffled to keep pace with the boots, "i told ya i had something i needed to take care of." And then there were two skeletons standing on the path, each seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, as neither appeared to notice the twins grinning widely a few feet ahead.

"OH, OF COURSE." Papyrus replied with heavy sarcasm, arms folded over his battle body. "HOW COULD I FORGET THAT YOU HAD TO WEED YOUR GARDEN?"

"…why am i getting the impression you don't be- _leaf_ me?"

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A GARDEN, SANS!"

An amused snort from further on distracted them both.

While Papyrus moved to greet the humans and apologize for the wait, which was entirely the fault of his brother, Sans chortled under his breath. Then he noticed the little girl staring at him, her mouth pressed in a quizzically tilted line. Reading the question mark written all over her face, he firmly shook his head, laying one skeletal finger over his mouth. If it was absolutely, one-hundred percent necessary, they'd hash things out later.

Still, though he was fairly confident his bro was far too convinced of his laziness (and his honesty) to ever believe that Sans could be hiding something from him, the fact that she hadn't blurted out a thanks or a question about his magic was appreciated.

As for the boy, it seemed like he was in control of himself, for the moment. Even more so than he'd been the last time the skeleton had taken a really good look at him, back when they'd first met.

Guess there was no need for him to interfere, then.

"SANS," Papyrus whispered as best as someone with the natural volume of an air horn could, which was to say everyone in Hotland could hear him, "DON'T THESE HUMANS REMIND YOU A LITTLE OF US?"

With a mental frown, Sans took a closer look at the kids, this time searching for more than the answers to a few specific questions. And without those questions in mind, he was better able to see what Papyrus saw, the way their postures curved towards each other, as though seeking reassurance of the other's continued existence. There were recently frozen tracks running down the girl's cheeks. Something had happened, and whatever it was, Sans would have bet ten bottles of ketchup that it was responsible for the boy's presence not giving him the creeps, anymore.

And, yeah, the scene did remind him a little of when Papyrus was younger, back when he still needed his big brother to hug the bad dreams away, but that wasn't what Papyrus was thinking of, was it?

"nope."

Disappointed, Papyrus waved him off, then marched ahead to ask the humans if they'd still like to solve his puzzles. If they decided they'd rather go straight to the town and rest, he'd understand. Undyne reacted similarly to cold weather, what with her sneezing and shivering, though unlike the humans, who seemed to be gradually turning blue as time went on and the winds picked up, the young captain of the Royal Guard was born that way.

The twins shared a glance, silently wondering if the other was still up for puzzle solving, then simultaneously nodded, having decided they wanted to continue. It would have been hard to have fun if they were lost and alone, but they weren't alone, were they?

"It's not like we have anything else to do, right?"

"And we really want to see the puzzle you worked so hard on!"

Letting out a whoop, Papyrus exclaimed, "NYEH HEH HEH! THANK YOU, HUMANS! I PROMISE YOU WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED!" Beaming, he quickly marched off to set up his puzzles, then stopped, spun around on his heel, and marched right back. Before Mabel could ask why, he wrapped his scarf around her, winding it around the first scarf until the ends no longer dragged on the ground and the skin all the way up to her nose was shielded from the cold, then he lifted Sans up by his sleeves, tugged the coat off his arms while he dangled, and handed it to Dipper. It smelled strongly of old ketchup.

Then he twirled away like a spinning top.

Hanging back, Sans waited until the twins were ready to move forward, all decked out in their borrowed winter gear, before saying, "listen, thanks for doing this. it's been a while since i've seen him this excited."

"Yeah, no problem, man," Dipper replied, feeling warm and light under the heavy coat. "Sorry about taking your clothes like this."

"nah, don't mention it. only one of us needs to stay warm to survive." And before Dipper had a chance to ask how he knew that, Sans spun down the path to follow Papyrus and avoid responsibilities.

* * *

While the twins didn't encounter any other monsters on their way to Papyrus' first puzzle, they did encounter a patch of ice that had them tripping over themselves for a few minutes as they each tried to catch a glimpse of the sign sticking out of the small ice-free zone in the middle. The sign's chosen placement, difficult to see and even harder to reach, gave Dipper the impression that whoever had set the sign up had cared more about making strangers fall on their rears than about giving directions.

Once he finally nailed the trajectory, Dipper read the directions, "It says ' North: Ice. South: Ice. West: Ice. East: Snowdin Town."

"and ice!" Mabel chimed in, having read the last line over his shoulder.

Palming his forehead, Dipper let out an exasperated groan, "I cannot believe we wasted time for this." His shorts were already soaked from all the time he'd spent kneeling in the snow, but now, thanks to the sign, it's terrible placement, and whoever was lazy enough to think writing something as obvious as 'Ice' was acceptable for just about every direction, he ached all over, too.

"Snowdin," Mabel repeated, looking thoughtful. "Doesn't that kind of sound like _snowed in_? What do you think are the chances that Sans named the town?"

Dipper opened his mouth, closed it, raised a finger, lowered it, then finally settled for a noncommittal shrug. While he wasn't convinced that Sans was responsible for every pun they came across - maybe the founder was just really bad with names, so he thought up ones that were simple and easy to remember – he'd seen a lot of strange things lately, and he wasn't going to completely count out the possibility, either.

Actually, didn't Toriel really like puns, too?

Dipper frowned as some aspect of that particular thought continued to nag at him.

Toriel. Too.

Too. Toriel.

Tutorial.

"Oh, come on!"


	8. Miles To Go

Papyrus stood tall, perfect posture perfectly mimicking his ideal image of a Royal Guard, at the foot of his genius puzzle, ready and waiting for the humans to arrive. Standing at his side, Sans was half bent over in a lazy slouch, somehow appearing even more apt to fall asleep on his feet than usual. What was it that was making his brother so utterly exhausted all the time? He hardly did anything! It took all of Papyrus' not inconsiderable strength just to drag his brother out of bed in the morning!

He was so excited to finally meet a human (even if they did wind up capturing him first) and he'd truly believed Sans would be, too. And why wouldn't he be? Meeting a human was the same as meeting a brand new friend, after all. They'd even agreed to solve his puzzles! And yet…

"SANS?," Papyrus ventured. The skeleton blinked, hands automatically reaching to dig into pockets he no longer had.

"yeah, bro?"

"… HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE?" It wasn't the question he'd meant to ask, but it did chip away some of the strange distance he'd been sensing in his brother, bringing him back to the here and now.

Sans glanced sideways at him, bemused by the choice of conversation, before replying, "not that long. in fact," cocking his head, he almost seemed to smile, a subtle distinction from his neutral expression that was so clear to Papyrus that it shocked him when others couldn't always tell the difference between when his brother was being genuine and when he was simply relying on his lack of skin and facial muscles to appear happy. It was easy for him to forget that not everyone knew Sans as well as he did, "here they come now."

The girl skipped up to the sheet of ice between them, cheeks flushed red with amusement and joy. "Sorry we're late!" The boy, walking briskly, came forward to join her, already scanning the area for switches, levers, or some other clue as to what sort of puzzle the skeleton had planned for them. "We got a little sidetracked and then we met a snowman and it asked us to take a piece of it to the ends of the earth but we couldn't hold the piece because it'd melt, and we couldn't put it in our pockets, so I offered to carry the piece in my stomach but the snowman got all offended and then Dipper said I shouldn't eat the piece because I didn't know how old the snow was or where it'd been, and then the snowman got all huffy and refused to give us anything."

Well, that was odd. All the textbooks Papyrus had read insisted that humans needed to breathe, but this was apparently not the case, as the girl human had managed to say all of that without pausing for air once. Clearly, the textbooks still had a thing or two to learn about humans.

"It's not my fault the snowman can't take some honest criticism." The boy muttered, idly kicking snow over the edge of the ice puzzle.

"You said he was dirty," the girl pointed out, arms crossed, though she didn't really seem all that upset with him. More playful teasing than the grudging amusement Papyrus usually indulged in.

"Because it's true! It doesn't snow here, Mabel. All of this snow's been here for ages and there are dogs running around!" Sans nearly choked at that, repeatedly hitting his ribs with a fist as he coughed while Papyrus tried to find the correlation between dogs and inedible snow. In the end, the only reason he could think of not to eat part of the snowman was because it was very rude. "Could we please just start the puzzle, already?" He glanced woefully down at his shoes. "I can't feel my toes."

Right. Of course. Papyrus stepped up, more than happy to oblige, though his prepared speech was ruined, slightly. That was okay, though. He was flexible. It wasn't like he'd practiced it in the mirror or anything. "THEN WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I WILL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE PUZZLE MY BROTHER AND I CREATED. I'M SURE YOU WILL FIND IT," he paused for dramatic effect, barely suppressing his own glee as he managed to somehow seamlessly work in his speech, regardless, "QUITE SHOCKING."

The boy stared at him for a moment, eyes going wide, then proceeded to find the closest pine tree and repeatedly slam his forehead against it, a little bit of snow slipping off the higher boughs with each renewed blow.

Papyrus watched the scene play out with concern. "IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?"

"He's fine." The girl replied breezily. "He just needs to learn to-"

"Mabel, don't you dare."

"- _chill out_." The cry the boy uttered was so anguished, so obviously filled with a torment that Papyrus had to deal with daily, that he turned to cast an accusing glare on Sans.

Noticing the sudden heat aimed in his direction, Sans said a little defensively, "what? i had nothing to do with this. the kid's just a natural." Lies. His terrible puns were infecting the planet.

"UM… SO MY PUZZLE?" The humans, who'd begun battering with each other in a way that involved one making increasingly terrible puns as the other vehemently asked them to literally say anything else, abruptly went silent, suddenly reminded of why they were standing there in the first place. Sheepishly, they rubbed their necks and apologized. "NO WORRIES. I, TOO, UNDERSTAND THE TRIALS OF HAVING A SIBLING." Sans gave a thumbs up. "AS FOR MY PUZZLE, IT IS AN INVISIBLE ELECTRICITY MAZE! WHEN YOU TOUCH THE WALLS OF THIS MAZE," an orb appeared in his hand, seemingly popping into existence at that very instant, though it had actually been craftily concealed within his battle body, "THIS ORB WILL ADMINISTER A HEARTY ZAP!" He knew all that practice would come in handy! The words were rolling off his… off his… Huh. The words were very easy to say!

Going off-script at little, he admitted that being electrocuted probably wouldn't be very fun. When he was finished, the humans gawked at him, obviously rendered speechless by the sheer greatness of his puzzle! When they still didn't move, he added, "YOU CAN GO AHEAD NOW."

The boy gave the safe but narrow path next to the puzzle an appraisingly glance as the girl frowned, saying, "Let's just do it. It'll boost his confidence."

Actually, his confidence levels was fine, thank you, but he and his brother had spent a few days making sure these puzzles were perfect – and Sans hated putting effort into anything – so it was very important that these humans did not ignore their thoughtfulness. If they did, he wasn't sure if he'd ever again be able to get Sans to put effort into anything.

Also, seeing the human actually consider skipping the puzzle was making him feel rather nervous, but not for a reason he could name. More like the remnants of a bad dream he couldn't remember.

"He calls himself the Great Papyrus, Mabel. He doesn't need a confidence boost." Sans tensed, any emotion Papyrus had discerned previously dissolving into something blank and flat and lifeless. And no matter what he thought, it didn't go unnoticed. Feeling, the girl's concerned and anxious gaze flit from his brother to him, Papyrus tried standing even taller, determined to look extra jubilant.

Having missed the silent exchange, the boy dropped his voice to a low, furious whisper, "The only way to solve that puzzle is by trial and error, and maybe I'm only speaking for myself here, but being electrocuted is not my idea of a good time!" He backed away from the puzzle, expecting her to follow. When she didn't, he tried again, tried to explain it better, because he knew what it sounded like and he knew what it looked like but he wasn't just trying to be a jerk here, "Listen, it's not that I don't think Papyrus means well, but none of these monsters know a lot about humans. What's fun for a skeleton with no skin or organs to worry about may be lethal for us. And even if it doesn't kill us, even if it's just a small jolt like what you got that time you tried running past the fence with the that collar you pulled off the neighbor's dog, does that really sound fun to you?"

He headed towards the side, planning to skip the puzzle entirely, when the girl said, "You know what, Dipper? You're right." Overhearing this, Papyrus' shoulders slumped. "This could be really dangerous." Chancing a wary glance in Sans' direction, she was surprised to catch a quick wink. "But Dipper, we said we'd solve his puzzles. We can't just back out now! And I don't…" Lowering her voice so only Dipper would hear, she finished, "I really don't think there's anything to worry about." Maybe Papyrus didn't know anything about human physiology, but Sans did, and he would never let his brother accidentally hurt them, not when hurting them would hurt Papyrus just as much. How did she know this? Because if their positions were reversed, Dipper would never let her hurt anyone.

Since it was obvious that she wasn't going to budge on this, and would probably attempt to do the maze by herself if he decided to simply skip it, Dipper reluctantly headed back.

"Well… it's not like you haven't been right about everything so far."

Mabel grinned, ecstatic. "I'm always right!" Taking each other's hands, the twins stepped forward… And Papyrus leapt into the air as electricity coursed and a thousand needles pricked his bones.

Blackened and smoking, but secretly relieved, Papyrus stamped his feet, demanding Sans explain what he did to ruin their perfect puzzle, thereby robbing the poor humans of their enjoyment, and after they'd successfully thwarted the dark temptation of simply skipping the puzzle, too!

"i think the human has to hold the orb." Oh. Well, yes, he supposed that made sense.

Feeling better now that everything was back on track, Papyrus deftly found the correct path through his maze – he'd designed it himself, after all – and dropped the orb into the girl's hands. Before leaving, however, he paused, uncertainty an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation under his rib cage. "IF THIS PUZZLE IS TRULY TOO DIFFICULT, WE COULD ALWAYS FORGO THIS ONE AND SKIP TO THE NEXT. IT WILL NOT HURT MY FEELINGS." Embarrassingly, his voice went up a few octaves as he ended on a squeaked, "NOT EVEN A LITTLE."

The humans were not paying him any attention, though. Too focused on peering behind him in matching expressions of disbelief that gradually stretched into mischievous smirks. "Thanks," the boy replied with amusement, "but I think we'll be okay."

Oh. Well, if they were sure. Papyrus returned to his place on the other side, curious about the humans' sudden change in attitude, when they easily arranged themselves in single file and expertly traversed the safe path of his maze. It was astounding! Had he not seen it with his own sockets, he'd never have believed it. Truly, these slippery snails were a force to be reckoned with.

"I SEE YOU HAVE MADE QUICK WORK OF MY PUZZLE!" Whew. "HOWEVER, THE NEXT PUZZLE WAS CREATED BY MY BROTHER, SANS, AND IT WILL SURELY CONFOUND YOU!" Not even the he was able to fully grasp the true deviousness of his brother's puzzle.

Without turning around or moving his legs, Papyrus slid away to the next puzzle as though he'd suddenly been placed on a conveyor belt.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Sans strolled over to speak to the twins. It was about time he started trusting them a little. Everyone deserved a second chance, right? "you were pretty on edge about this puzzle, huh? sorry about that. you're right that my bro doesn't know a whole lot about humans, most of us don't, but the shocks wouldn't have hurt ya."

"You sure?" Dipper asked skeptically. "He looked pretty fried after the first one."

"well, that one's a bit of a doozy but, at best, walking into the walls would get you feeling a little buzzed. my bro may not always act like it, but he wouldn't hurt a fly." After waiting a moment for the girl to speak, since she always seemed to have something to say, Sans continued, "you know that weird outfit he wears?" The twins nodded, they'd been a little curious about the strange armor themselves. "we made that a few weeks ago for a costume party. he hasn't taken it off since. keeps calling it his 'battle body... man, isn't my brother cool?"

Snickering, Dipper nudged his sister. "It sounds like Papyrus is just as obsessed as with his clothes as you are."

Stars glittering in her eyes, Mabel exclaimed, "He's the coolest! What sort of molding plastic did you use? Or did you use foam? Or did you stretch fabric over a basic wire frame to give the battle body its shape?" Not pausing to give Sans a moment to process any of her questions, she continued, "Did you cut out the fabric for the shorts and scarf, too?" The scarf around her neck, already treated with care, suddenly felt so much more precious. There was no way she could leave the Underground without returning it, not when the first sweaters she'd ever made, the ones Dipper helped her with because some of the instructions were confusing and she kept getting frustrated with her flimsy slip knots, were her very first treasures. "Since I make my own sweaters, maybe we could share tips and tricks, sometime?"

"heh. wow." Having a kid this talkative around was going to take a little getting used to but, so far, it wasn't all that bad. "to be honest, i just used a pair of scissors and a sewing machine – no big deal - but i'll let my bro know how much you love his style. it'll make his day."

Any hope that she'd just leave it at that and move on to the next puzzle were dashed when her fists clenched reflexively around the purple and crimson scarves twirled around her neck. "Hey, Dip? Do you think you could go on ahead? I want to talk with Sans a little more about knitting." She was a terrible liar, but the excuse was plausible enough, and Sans could only guess that lying was so rare for her that people, including her brother, tended to accept her at her word. Judging by the look on her face, even the smallest lie filled her with guilt. It was a trait Sans could admire. Much better than feeling nothing at all.

With that said, Dipper was suspicious, but not for the right reasons. Giving his sister a scrutinizing look, he asked warily, "You're not planning on asking him to be your boyfriend, are you?"

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Of course not!" Though she wasn't so overly picky as to say skin was a requirement in her prospective boyfriends, they did have to at least be around their teens. How old was Sans, anyway? It was probably rude to ask. Who knew how sensitive skeletons could be about their age?

"well, gee, kid. tell me how ya really feel, why don't 'cha?" Oh no. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. However, when she opened her mouth to apologize, he waved her off. "nah, don't worry about it. i'm just kidding. love's not really on my to-do list right now. actually, nothing's really on my to-do list. guess that's why i have so much free time." Balling her hands into fists, Mabel wondered how he could say such sad things while acting like he was smiling, like it was all just a joke and they were supposed to laugh and leave it at that. Did he realize how hopeless he sounded? But, even knowing that, she needed to ask him a favor. Because it was something only he could do.

Noticing his comment didn't get the reaction he was hoping for, Sans topped it with, "welp, can't please 'em all."

Smiling for his sake and her brother's, Mabel gestured for Dipper to go ahead without her. He hesitated, reluctant to leave her with Sans, but ultimately agreed. When he was finally gone, the skeleton decided it was time to get down to business. "well, I'm guessing you have a few questions for me?"

Shaking her head, Mabel replied, "Not really. Well, yes. But first, thank you for saving me, you know, before."

"yeah, about that... tell me, did you know that flower was bad news when you went traipsing out into the woods without telling your bro?"

Well, when he put it like that, it did sound pretty dumb. "Kind of?" If it'd wanted them dead, then why was it just quietly following them? Why not try to kill them again? Even after it'd pretty much attacked her, Mabel couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. "Dipper wasn't feeling too well at the time. He was all stressed and acting a little cray-cray," since Sans had no idea what that meant, he made a mental note to message Alphys for a translation later, "so I thought I could handle it myself."

And she'd thought wrong. "But I couldn't protect myself. Not without your help. And if I can't protect myself, then I can't protect Dipper." This conversation was starting to get a little too heavy for the skeleton. She looked like she needed some sort of comforting, but Sans wasn't exactly sure how adept he was in that department. "But _you_ can. And I know you don't owe me anything – really, it's the opposite – but if something happens to me, can you promise me you'll get Dipper out of here?" Things were going okay. Great, even. But a little insurance wouldn't hurt, right?

But Sans frowned. It wasn't something he did with his face, it was evident in the way his eyes dimmed, the way his posture changed. "listen, i really hate making promises, and before you say that makes me perfect for the job, let me just tell you a little about why some of these monsters seem like they're out to get you. maybe if you understand that, then you'll understand why i can't promise you anything." Around them, the air began to feel a little colder. Mabel hugged the scarfs draped over her chest, thinking of Papyrus, who was waiting for her to finish the puzzles he was so very proud of, but who'd definitely mentioned something about capturing them before, and Toriel, who was willing to fight them, to hurt them, if it meant keeping them from leaving. She wanted to know. She wanted to know why she should be afraid. Seeing her resolve, Sans scratched his skull. "okay, now you've probably heard about the barrier, right? can't get near this place without hearing about it."

"I thought it was just a myth," Mabel admitted. "The bus stop for our new school is located at the base of this mountain. We were waiting for the bus to arrive, but we had plenty of time, so we decided to explore a little." Technically, it'd been Dipper's idea, but that wasn't important. "We didn't actually expect to find monsters but… there was a kid." A strange noise left the skeleton, something caught between a grunt and cry, and Mabel's head shot up in concern, but he wasn't facing her, anymore. He'd completely turned away.

"well, aren't you gonna continue?" The strain of the forced nonchalance was like a string tightened too many times on a guitar. Any second it'd snap.

"Um, so we ran to the edge, hoping to get there before they tripped on a root or fell or something awful like that, and then we pointed them back to the road. Job well done, right? Well…" Her weight shifted as she rolled onto the balls of her feet, gaze sliding to the side. It was strange speaking to someone who wouldn't look at you. "There was a _crack_ , and the next thing I remember I woke up here."

"so the, uh, kid… did they seem happy to you?"

"Not really. They were more quiet than anything." When Sans didn't react, Mabel did her best to reassure him, though she wasn't entirely sure why. "But they were safe! Dip and I made sure of that."

Finally, Sans turned around to face her. He didn't look any different than he had before, not really, but if Mabel used her imagination a little, she could almost say he seemed a little… lighter. "guess i owe you one, after all. so, anyway, the barrier's a real thing. it's kept monsters trapped down here for thousands of years, and the price for breaking it? seven human souls." He paused, hating this. "We already have six, Mabel. One more, and every monster goes free."

They were all trapped? Even Papyrus? But who would trap monsters that were kind and silly and quirky? Why did someone who took the time to help his brother make a costume that he loved so much he never took it off be forced to live underground? And Toriel… didn't she want to see the sun again? Didn't someone as nice as she was deserve to? "One more?" Mabel echoed, a million thoughts whirling in her head. "Just one. That's it. And you all can go free?"

"kid-" He didn't want to hear this.

"If I – If I give you my soul… could I have it back?"

"not even a human can survive without their SOUL." Which meant they'd already murdered six humans. Mabel stumbled back, reeling from the insight into the _harmless_ monsters she'd been going out of her way not to hurt. Sans reached out, as though ready to catch her if she fell. She couldn't help it, she flinched away from him, and he let his hand fall back to his side. "don't offer me your soul unless you mean it." It came out even harsher than he'd anticipated. Seeing her blanch, he slowly dragged a hand down his face, closing his sockets as he forced himself to calm down before the kid fainted on him. "as for your brother, well, i'm not making any promises here, but i'll watch out for him." He'd been planning to, anyway. "it's the least i can do, since you're hanging with my bro and keeping my little light show a secret."

It took a moment, but Mabel finally found her voice again. To her infinite relief, it came out steady. "You're… actually really strong, right? Why keep that a secret? Shouldn't you at least tell Papyrus?"

But Sans was already starting to walk away. "not all of us are strong because we want to be."

It wasn't really an answer; it was just the only answer he was willing to give.


	9. Before I Sleep

A/N: Hold on to your seats. It's a long one this time.

Sans: Thanks, Sans!

DGTTB: Usually, I aim for every two weeks, but this next update may take a little longer.

Crookedfang: Thank you so much for that review! It was very sweet. After this is done, I do plan on trying to write my own stories. Thank you for believing in me.

Kiryma: Napstablook was where he always is in the Ruins. Toriel carried the twins the entire way so they never met them, but I'm sure they'll run into Napstablook in Waterfall.

* * *

Had she not been so focused on mulling over the parting words of an irritatingly enigmatic skeleton who liked to be all cryptic and mysterious before up and leaving, not to mention the great big bomb shell he'd dropped into her lap, Mabel would have undoubtedly noticed the giant bipedal bunny leaning against the striped ice cream stand before he spoke. ""Oh! A customer!" As it was, her head automatically swiveled to follow the sound, her mouth parting a little in a silent oh when the rabbit smiled widely and waved. Not five minutes beforehand, she would have been jumping with unbridled joy at the sight of him. It was like stumbling across one of her favorite stuffed animals selling ice cream. What could be better than that?!

But now it occurred to her that this monster could be using the delicious treats as a way to lure her close so he could steal her soul. Even knowing that was the fear talking, it was enough to make her hesitate, because the fear wasn't baseless or irrational. It was real, and until Dipper knew about it, too, she had to deal with it all by herself. Fighting down the alarm twisting in her stomach, Mabel shuffled closer to his stand, stopping only when she was barely out of reach. The rabbit didn't seem to notice her reluctance, as his excitement only grew, as evidenced by the long ears springing up from his head. Leaning back on his stand with his legs crossed, the rabbit monster asked, "Would you like some Nice Cream? It's the perfect weather for something frozen!"

And while Mabel wasn't exactly freezing anymore, the thought of filling her insides with anything cold sent a shiver down her spine. But he looked so hopeful! So happy! How could she possibly say no?

First she checked her skirt for pockets, then her sweater, then her socks. After giving her entire body a quick pat down, Mabel glanced sheepishly up at the bunny monster, whose ears appeared to have lowered slightly. "I'm really sorry… I don't have any money on me." And she expected him to turn away, it's what any vendor on the surface would have done, but instead he glanced surreptitiously around, reached into the stand to retrieve a cone, and filled it with two scoops of ice cream the same light shade of aqua blue as his fur.

"This probably isn't very good business practice, but you look like you could use a pick-me-up." Handing her the cone, he added with a wink, "Just be sure to tell your friends about how delicious it is, okay?"

Once she finished thanking him, she gave the Nice Cream an experimental lick. It melted on her tongue like a cloud, bringing with it a whiff of salty ocean waves and the sweet taste of bubblegum. As it dissolved, the scrapes and soreness recent fights had left her began to fade, the skin knitting together with a sensation of tingling warmth. Observing her surprised reaction with a steady, searching gaze that was no less gentle for it, the Nice Cream seller apparently found what he was looking for and nodded. "Looks like I was right. Feeling better?"

Frowning in thought, Mabel considered that. Physically, there was no denying that she was. She could even take the bandage off her chin if she wanted to, since the cut underneath it had nearly healed, and the extra, borrowed clothes she was wearing kept the worst of the cold at bay, though it didn't prevent the ice cream from chilling her insides. And yet, she still had no idea what to tell Dipper, or even if she should tell him anything at all.

But she wanted to. She wanted to so much her chest ached with it, because the knowledge was too heavy to bear alone. She wanted to talk about it, share it. She wanted Dipper to tell her that he had a plan and that everything was going to be okay and that they'd be home in no time. She wanted to go back to right before Sans told her anything and tell him that she'd changed her mind, he didn't have to tell her anything. She was better off not knowing, anyway.

The rabbit monster, noodle-limbed and stretched like a teenager, watched her work through her thoughts with patience and a near endless supply of good-humor. Maybe he would listen? He seemed nice enough. Pushing down her nerves, Mabel wondered aloud if she could ask him a question. "Well," he scratched his head with the tip of an ear, then gestured grandly to a long line of nonexistent customers "business is booming, as you can see, but I think I can schedule you in."

"…so… would you say you're _all ears_ , then?" Mabel felt herself begin to smile as the monster went through great pains to stare at his own ears, gaping at them as though thoroughly flabbergasted to find that they were, indeed, long and floppy. Drops of ice cream dribbled over fingers, distracting her from his antics. She rushed to lick up the sides, lapping up the stray tracks with delight, then followed it up with a large bite that sent freezing cold lightning zipping through her skull. Clutching a hand to her head, she hissed a little, "…yikes." Wincing, she heard the rabbit monster snigger with amusement, and forced a pained, thin smile that was nevertheless as genuine as her heartbeat.

A few letters peeked out from the Nice Creams' wrapper. Curious, Mabel peeled it back further to see a message that read: _probably best if you take small bites._

The ice cream slipped from her fingers. Had the Nice Cream guy not reached out and caught it for her, it would have tumbled to the ground. Looking bemused and a little upset, he checked the wrapper for her, wondering why a nice saying would elicit such a startled reaction. After reading it, he thought he might have understood a little better. "Apologies, Miss, some of the monsters down here like to play pranks. It's all harmless fun." Raising his voice to shout over the narrow ravine nearby, he added sternly, "Though I would appreciate it if they left my Nice Cream wrappers out of it, Sans!" Sans? Looking up, she saw a giant snowball boulder and some more ice and then... yep, that was Sans. He was pointing at himself questioningly, in case the ice cream man had meant some other skeleton going by the same name. "Yes, you! I've already asked you not to spook my customers like this!" Stumbling backwards, Sans clutched a hand dramatically to his chest, apparently wounded by the accusation.

Knowing that Sans was so close almost made her want to change her mind, but when she gave a polite wave, ready to go join Dipper and the others, the bunny monster shook his head, "Nuh-uh. You still have something to get off your chest, don't you? Now, I'm not going to make you say anything, but I'm still willing to listen if you have that question you've been holding onto."

If she were being honest, Mabel had to admit that she was likely never going to get a better confidant than an adorable talking rabbit. It'd be crazy to pass up this chance.

"If…" Still, she stopped, a little nervous, but the Nice Cream guy only smiled encouragingly, gesturing for her to continue, and it loosened up her tongue enough for the words to come out, "if, hypothetically, the only way you could get something you really, really wanted, more than anything, was to take someone else's… Nice Cream, would you?"

"Nope!" There was no pause in his response, no hesitation or doubt, just the easy certainty of someone who knew exactly who they were and where they wanted to be in life. "What I want more than anything is to see monsters like you smile, and I get that every time I sell a Nice Cream – you gave me one when you took your first bite - so why would I take someone else's? That wouldn't make me happy at all."

But what if it meant he could go to the surface? Would he hurt someone, then? What if it wasn't ice cream or a smile, but a SOUL? What if he didn't have to do it himself? What if all he had to do was just… let it happen, and then he could sell all the Nice Cream he wanted to people all around the world? Wasn't losing one smile worth the thousands he would see if the barrier fell? Maybe one monster didn't think that way, but that didn't mean all the other monsters would agree with him. As much as Mabel wanted to believe that all these monsters were too good to kill for their freedom, the awful reality was they already had. Six times. What was one more?

If she stopped thinking of herself as a person, and started thinking of herself as a number, then their reasons were obvious. One life wasn't worth the dooming of an entire race. But… she didn't want to die. She wanted to see her parents again and go on sleepovers with her friends and turn thirteen with her brother. She wanted to go through a growth spurt that left her feeling awkward and gangly and self-conscious and then maybe Dipper would make some friends who were just as intelligent as he was, and he would win awards and arrange nerd study sessions, but they'd still hang out all the time because they were always going to stay the best of buddies.

But if she gave up her soul, she'd never grow up, and none of that would happen. It was the final realization she needed to come to a decision. "Sorry," she called cheerfully to the Nice Cream guy after she'd thanked him again and began the short trek over the narrow wooden bridge to reach the side were Sans stood, waiting (or sleeping), "I'm keeping it, after all!"

Waving happily as he twitched his ruby red button nose in confusion, the Nice guy called back, "Okay! Have a super duper day!"

* * *

Stopping at the boulder, Mabel bent down to examine the flawlessly packed snow. There were no footprints or hand impressions, as though it had sprung into existence purely by magic. It was, in fact, a perfect sphere. Perfect for rolling down a slope or building a snowman or dropping on someone's head.

Grinning, Mabel kicked it, sending it careening across the ice and bouncing off the sides. Letting out a peal of delighted laughter, she chased after it, kicking it repeatedly, until a hole came into view. It was larger than the ones used for mini putt putt, but perfect for her boulder. Gaze focused and locked on the hole, Mabel drew back her leg for a powerful kick, let it loose, and then nearly fell over as her foot met no resistance. Baffled, she glanced down at her feet to see the boulder had vanished. Pointedly glaring at Sans, she asked, "Really?"

This time, he really was wrongly accused, but since his denials were mostly nonverbal, it took a few tries, as well as actually seeing the boulder shrink, for Mabel to believe he wasn't somehow involved. "how long do you plan on messing with that snowball?" Ignoring him, Mabel huffed, pushing a wet strand of hair off her forehead. She just wanted to kick the ball into the hole. What was so difficult to understand about that?

On her fifth try, Sans appeared on the ice, catching the snowball under his foot. Kicking it back, he asked, "think i can give it a go?" Curious about his skills, or more accurately about whether he had any, Mabel told him to give it a shot. But no cheating. "alright. deal." Angling himself with minimal movements, he glanced quickly at the hole to judge distance, estimated the size and weight and resistance of the ball he was rolling with his foot, and said, "been a while since i've done this, so don't go expect too much from ol' sans, alright?"

At this point, even knowing that he was capable of so much more than he was willing to admit, Mabel half expected him to miss the ball completely and fall flat on his face. Instead, he tapped it with the heel of his fluffy pink slipper and it rocketed across the ice, moving down the path like a it'd been sprung into a pinball machine, then plopped right into the hole. A red flag popped out, followed by a brown burlap sack filled with fifty pieces of gold. Sans picked it up and tossed it to Mabel, cutting her off mid-cheer. "it's not exactly the end to your money troubles, but it's a good start."

After reaching to catch it with her free hand, Mabel shook her head, protesting, "But I didn't earn this!" She'd wanted to solve the puzzle herself. What was the fun in having someone else do it?

"you didn't earn the nice cream, either," Sans pointed out. "besides, carrying around all that G would take effort. still, if it really bothers you that much, you can treat me to grillby's later." Registering her blank expression, he explained, "it's a restaurant in snowdin." Suppressing a laugh that would give the joke away, he added, "and something tells me you'll like the bartender."

Jumping with excitement as she followed Sans off the ice, Mabel asked, "Really? Is he hot?"

"oh, yeah, he's always _on fire._ "

Well, that was a rather odd way of putting it. Was he just that good of a bartender? Having come to a gradual stop, Mabel's eyes narrowed in suspicion, allowing Sans to increase the space between them by a few paces. "He's literally on fire, isn't he?"

Without stopped, Sans answered, "…not telling." While Mabel bent to gather a large pile of snow she could shove down the skeleton's shirt, Sans boosted his speed from an ambling stroll to a moderately more purposeful shuffle.

* * *

Since Papyrus was reluctant to start his brother's puzzle without him, Dipper suggested they play a game of Tic-Tac-Toe to pass the time. As it turned out, despite seeming to know so little about humans, Papyrus already had an excellent grasp of the game.

Thus far, the ground was covered in finger drawn X's and O's, with Dipper having only attained one solid victory, after which Papyrus had congratulated him with such honest enthusiasm as he vigorously shook his hand that Dipper couldn't help but wonder how the skeleton would react when he actually won. Every game before and after had been a tie, which resulted in an equally earnest and heartfelt, "OH, GOODIE, WE ARE BOTH WINNERS!"

It was getting to the point where simply letting him win, just to see what he'd say, was becoming a more and more appealing option, when Sans shuffled into view. "HELLO, BROTHER! WHERE IS-" A streak of green and red rushed the skeleton's unguarded back, one hand clutching a partially consumed Nice Cream cone while the other lifted a sloppily made snow ball. It lunged, Sans slid effortlessly out of the way, and the streak, now clearly Mabel, tottered forward, pin wheeled her arms wildly, and then stumbled headfirst into a deep pile of snow.

 _Miss!_

Without skipping a beat, Papyrus continued, "AH, THERE THEY ARE. HELLO, HUMAN! WE WERE JUST ABOUT TO START MY BROTHER'S PUZZLE!"" With the Tic-Tac-Toe game pushed firmly from his mind, Papyrus climbed to his feet, helping Dipper stand as he did, while Sans observed Mabel's struggle to wiggle herself free for a few seconds before gripping the bottom of her sweater and tugging her loose.

The expression she turned on him once free was almost mournful.

"what? didja think i was just gonna stand around and let you chill my bones?" Sans asked lightly as he set her down. Once she finished sputtering and spitting out a mouthful of snow, Mabel went about wiping herself off, relieved to see that her Nice Cream hadn't gone to waste as Sans had somehow rescued it before she fell. "mind if i polish this off for ya," he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he popped the entire cone into his mouth. The twins stared, slack-jawed, each waiting for the ice cream to come dripping down his spinal column and into his ribcage, except no such thing happened. It was as though the food had vanished the instant he closed his mouth. When Dipper asked where it went, Papyrus took it upon himself to explain as he continued to search under leaves and rocks for his brother's puzzle that monster food was composed of the same magic particles that formed their bodies. Since knicks and scratches on a monster's form could be considered a depletion of magic, their food not only provided sustenance, but also provided a measure of healing to most superficial injuries.

Thinking of her own healed scratches and bruises, Mabel wondered if she were made of magic, too. She'd always wanted to be magical. "SANS! WHERE IS YOUR PUZZLE?!" Sans walked away to join Papyrus while Dipper snorted quietly, having spotted the word search early on, though Papyrus had assured him that such an easy puzzle could not possibly be what his brother had planned to stop the humans. Sure enough, Sans admitted without a shred of shame that the word search was his puzzle and there was no way the humans were getting past it.

Yawning, Mabel plopped herself on the ground while Dipper grabbed the word search and whipped out a pen. "WOWIE, SANS! YOU WERE RIGHT! THE PUZZLE REALLY IS STOPPING THEM!" Watching as Dipper took his time scanning each line for the correct letters, Sans sank into a position that was part sitting and part lying down, appearing as though he were seconds from falling asleep.

After a long, drawn out silence filled only with the _scritch scratch_ of pen against paper, Mabel blinked blearily at the word search, curious as to what was taking her brother so long. Some of the words didn't look like they belonged on a game made for kids, and at least one of them wasn't a word at all, but the entire first line trying to pass itself off as one. There were question marks next to it, as well as a scribbled out: _Possible code? Or just really lazy?_

Chewing on the end of his pen, Dipper mumbled, "Yeah, Mabel?"

"Do you think you could maybe hurry this up a little so we can move on to the next puzzle?" She sneezed, shivering as she inched closer to him for warmth. There was a blue tinge to her lips, a parting gift from the Nice Cream. Since most of the words were already circled, Dipper whisked his pen around the top line, wrote his name in the bottom corner, smoothed out the wrinkles in the word search, and then handed it to Papyrus. "Done. If the rest of your puzzles are this challenging then we'll be out of here in no time!" Without Dipper to prop her up, Mabel flopped over on her side, wrapped in a makeshift and colorful cocoon.

Papyrus beamed, glowing with pride. "DID YOU HEAR THAT, SANS? HE SAID OUR PUZZLES ARE CHALLENGING!" Hearing that, Dipper decided he would very much like a time machine so he could travel back approximately one minute and shove a hand over his mouth.

He tensed, waiting for Sans to clarify what he'd meant, but the smaller skeleton chose instead to shake his head a little and say, "good for you, pap. why don't you go check on the other puzzles?" Guess he was letting him off the hook. "wouldn't want them to be too easy for the humans, right?" Or not. Dipper swallowed a groan. How was Mabel able to get along with him so easily when everything he said was either a pun or had three different layers of meaning to it? It was like trying to make nice with a joke book and a Rubix Cube.

"OF COURSE THEY'RE NOT, SANS! HOW COULD ANYTHING MADE BY US HAVE A DIFFICULTY OF ANYTHING LESS THAN MODERATE?!" And he strutted off, presumably to do precisely as Sans had suggested, leaving Dipper alone with the skeleton brother who could turn terrifying on a dime as his only witness snored softly in the background.

"…look, i know you're dying to test your smarts," Sans started before Dipper could get a word out, "and you'll get your chance, but maybe relax a little? there's still a few more puzzles to go."

Frustrated, Dipper blew out a noisy breath, glancing to the side with his shoulders rolled back, "I'm trying my best here, man, but I'm getting the feeling you've already decided that you're not going to like me. And, also…" He glanced back at Mabel, making certain that she was too out of it to remember what she may or may not be hearing, "my sister and I are lost. We're not here to play games, but we're doing it, anyway. Mostly because it doesn't seem like we've got much of a choice, but also because, despite what you may think about me, I like your brother. I think he's really cool. So maybe you could ease up with the veiled hostility and cut me a little slack?"

When he decided to chance a peek, it was to see Sans looking startled for a moment, his eye sockets going wide. Though he quickly composed himself, falling easily back into a semblance of his default grin, the only difference being a touch of ruefulness that Dipper had never seen on the skeleton before, it was enough of a glimpse behind the mask that Dipper felt he could trust that what was said next would be true. "heh. it's not you i don't like. sorry if it seems that way. guess you're not the only one who needs to relax a little, though do me a favor and don't tell my brother i said that. he'd have a cow."

Dipper grinned at that, having gotten a fairly good grasp on Papyrus' personality from the short time he'd spent with him – the guy had the awesome superpower of automatically making everyone who met him want him to be happy – and promised not to. Before Sans left, though, he did mention that he could use some help carrying his sister, but, for a reason the skeleton wasn't willing go into too much detail on, that wasn't something Sans could help with. "there's a few characters lurking about that'd have me and my bro's hide if they saw us fraternizing with humans."

What was that supposed to mean?! Who were the characters? Why weren't they supposed to fraternizing with humans? "oh, would ya look at the time?" Sans said as he glanced meaningfully down at his wrist bone. "it's half past time for me to go. see ya around, kid."

If these vanishing acts turned out to be a frequent habit of his, then Dipper was going to find some glue and glue his slippers to the ground.

* * *

"Hey, Mabel? Sleeping in the snow is rarely ever a good idea." Actually, it was never a good idea. Not for humans, anyway. He nudged her side, drawing out a low groan. "Come on, you know what my arms look like. I am physically incapable of carrying you." She rolled over, ignoring him.

After that, he tried threatening to leave her, even walking away a few steps before trudging back when it became clear that wasn't going to work, and eventually resigned himself to draping her arms around him so he could drag her through the Underground.

Since he was devoting most of his focus to placing one foot in front of the other, Dipper almost missed the wooden sign that read: _Warning: Dog Marriage._

As it was, he spared it a bemused glance. Dog marriage didn't sound like something worth making a sign over.

Eventually, after Dipper had set her down for a time so he could study the map he'd found concealed under a thin layer of snow and locate the trigger that would disable the row of spikes blocking their path, Mabel roused herself enough to shuffle forward a little, and it was while she was flirting with consciousness that the twins happened to run into the characters Sans had warned about. Hooded figures carrying axes circled them like predators, sniffing their hair and clothes with long snouts coated in pearly white fur.

"Here's that weird smell." Dipper held his breath as the hooded figure that sounded vaguely male sniffed his jacket. "Smells like… ketchup? Skeleton?" The other hooded figure stuck their nose into Mabel's hair, woofing softly. "This one's been rolling around in the snow." Mabel sniffled, whining miserably. "Dear, it's a little puppy! They smell cold!"

Once they were certain there were no humans in the area, the dog couple uncovered their faces, each drawn and furrowed with concern for the poor shivering puppy. Shrugging, Dipper decided to roll with it. "Yes, my puppy fell into a snow bank earlier and now her, uh, fur's too wet to keep her warm. Do you think you could point us in the direction of town? I kind of want to get her dry as soon as possible."

Completely ignoring him, the dogs continued to fuss over Mabel. Apparently, they were not quite as fond of skeletons as they were of puppies. No idea as to why that might be.

They nuzzled their noses around Mabel's cheeks, pressing their bodies against her until the worst of the chill had melted away and she sighed, content.

Still half-asleep, she reached out to stroke their heads. The dogs gasped, coloring under their fur, as Dipper tightened his grip on her, legs tensed to leave, but instead of reacting with horror or anger; the dogs seemed pleasantly surprised. They told him that if he kept heading in the direction he was, he'd be in Snowdin before he could finish a dog treat. Having thanked them sincerely, Dipper resolved to take their word for it.

* * *

According to the latest in what was becoming a long series of signs, stepping over the two glowing blue X's on the ground would turn them into O's, which would then disable the spikes. Different puzzle. Same basic concept.

Once again, he set Mabel down, still secretly relieved that the dog couple hadn't decided to adopt her, and changed each X to a red O, then hopped on a gray switch protruding from the dirt.

Papyrus greeted them, somehow disbelieving of Dipper's incredible puzzle solving skills, though Dipper noticed how his eye sockets kept drifting to Mabel, who was drooping where she stood. "DID MY SPAGHETTI HELP TO WARM YOUR HEARTS AND SOULS?"

Oh no. Oh no no no. They didn't eat it! It was frozen! How was he supposed to tell Papyrus that the spaghetti he'd made for them was completely inedible without sounding insulting? Scratch that. There was no way to make that not sound insulting.

While Dipper fretted about what to say, Papyrus, noticing Mabel was beginning to lean heavily on empty space, and swept her off the ground with practiced ease before she could finish falling over, and said, "IT WOULD SEEM THIS HUMAN HAS HAD ENOUGH FUN FOR TODAY. NOT TO WORRY! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL TAKE GOOD CARE OF THEM WHILE YOU ENJOY YOUR PUZZLES!"

"No, hold on a sec, Papyrus – wait!" Aaaand he's gone.

Ugh. Maybe he'd ask Mabel about the pasta when she decided to rejoin the living and then she could figure out how to tell the guy that they'd passed it up in favor of keeping all their teeth. All the monsters seemed to like her more, anyway. It probably wouldn't even matter what was said, as long as she was the one saying it.

The next puzzle, Dipper saw, was similar to the one before it, except there were more X's and if he crossed to the other side and squinted, it bore a noticeable resemblance to Papyrus' face.

Experimentally, Dipper stepped on the closest X, watched it turn into an O, then tapped it again. There was a clicking noise and the O became an electric green triangle, which proved to function as a lock that prevented the rest of the puzzle from being completed correctly regardless of what he did. After sparing a moment's thought for how much easier solving the puzzle would have been for two people, Dipper jumped on the gray button, resetting the puzzle, and tried again.

There were multiple possible entrances, from the three around the front to the additional starting points around the back, and that wasn't including the spaces in the rock. With so many, he could either employ process of elimination, which could take a while, or try to form a mental picture of the puzzle and solve it in his head.

Well, he had wanted something harder, hadn't he?

Finding a twig lying near one of the rocks, Dipper drew a rough outline of the puzzle in the snow then, starting from the back, tried all the possible solutions he could think of. Whenever one didn't work out, he would cross that path out, so he didn't lose track of what he'd done and accidentally repeat himself. The trick was exiting the puzzle without crossing the same path twice. Turning them all to O's was easy enough, and he'd done it a few times already, but the rocks framing the puzzle kept blocking him in, forcing him to retrace his steps and reset.

It was on the third attempt that Dipper finally found the correct solution and triumphantly stomped his way to the grey button. Once again, the spikes lowered, revealing Sans loitering on the other side.

"good job on solving that so quickly. my bro was worried you'd need his help, but it seems like you were fine on your own." Dipper tilted his head in confusion, trying to discern whether Sans was genuinely congratulating him or subtly calling him a jerk. "…that diagram was a nice touch, actually," Sans continued, answering Dipper's unspoken question in his own way. "you looked like you were having a good time out there."

To his surprise, Dipper realized that he was right. Solving the puzzle had taken his mind off things long enough that he really had begun to enjoy himself. With a small, relaxed smile tugging stubbornly at the side of his mouth, Dipper replied, "I'm pretty sure I was." Then he walked past Sans, excepting him to follow, only to spot him standing ahead of him and right next to Papyrus, both of them on the other side of a long, flat rectangle composed entirely of gray tiles.

Before Papyrus could start on his spiel about whatever the function of this new puzzle was, Dipper backtracked to find Sans grinning in the exact spot where he'd left him, marched purposely forward to see that same skeleton standing next to Papyrus, walked backwards, encountered Sans _again_ , and then came to a stop on the short bridge by the rectangle, his hands on his knees as he aimed a frustrated glare at the object of his suffering. Ignoring the glare, Sans waved. "HAVE YOU FINISHED EXERCISING HUMAN?" Dipper emitted a low noise in response that didn't consist of any actual words. "I SHALL TAKE THAT AS A YES! THIS NEXT PUZZLE WILL SURELY TEST YOUR METAL." Under his arm, Mabel squirmed, mumbling a little, and Papyrus had to pause to adjust his hold on the exhausted human. "AS I WAS SAYING, THIS PUZZLE WAS MADE BY THE GREAT DR. ALPHYS!"

The explanation turned out to be a bit convoluted and long winded, which compounded by the fact that it changed after Dipper asked him to repeat it, resulted in him still having absolutely no idea how to solve the puzzle at the point Papyrus was randomly pressing a few buttons and turning the dials on the machine that presumably controlled it. There was something about monsters and swimming and piranhas that only attacked you when you smelled like oranges – or was it lemons? – and impassable red tiles and passable pink tiles and _more_ electrocution. If Dipper hadn't known better by now, he'd have assumed the tall skeleton was actively trying to kill him.

The tiles alternated at random, bright and dizzyingly fast, increasing to a frenetic and startling pace that had Dipper backing away a few steps in case it exploded in his face. Then it stopped as suddenly as it started, leaving a bridge of pink tiles for him to cross without hassle. "Um… was that supposed to happen?"

Sans backed up so Papyrus could twirl away without comment. "guess you didn't eat the spaghetti?" He said when Dipper finished crossing the pink tiles. Feeling a little guilty, Dipper confessed that he hadn't. Sans didn't seem to mind. "nah, it's cool. he's been taking cooking lessons lately, and he's really starting to get the hang of it, but even i know that spaghetti's been out here too long to be edible. not that it was edible before, but like i said, he's getting there. stick around long enough, and i'm sure he'll make some fresh for ya."

…Was that supposed to make him want to stick around? Was it supposed to make him want to leave? Was he overthinking it? That was it, wasn't it? How was he supposed to stop overthinking about overthinking things?

Sans watched in silence as Dipper grumbled under his breath and aggressively adjusted his hat. "kid, you've gotta ease up a little. you're gonna overload your brain at this rate."

And whose fault was that?!

* * *

There was another sentry stand further along with a wooden canine head attached to its roof and a bell on its counter. This, however, was not the strange part. No, the strange part was the small armored dog staring at a cylinder of ice with artist's block and the snarky reindeer observing his work. Dipper took a deep breath and kept moving. It was driving him nuts that he didn't have a journal to document any of this, though. Without some sort of proof, his parents were never going to believe him.

At the next puzzle, Mabel, who'd apparently woken up enough to stand on her own, and Papyrus, who hovered close by, clearly dubious about whether teetering like a seesaw could really be called standing and prepared to scoop her up in a moment's notice should she appear about ready to fall asleep in the snow again, were waiting for him to arrive.

Upon spotting him, Mabel brightened, rousing herself enough to say, "Hey, Dipdop!"

He grinned, relieved to see her. "Hey, Mabel. You feeling better?"

"You betcha! Ready and rearin' to go." She stumbled forward towards the sheet of ice stretching out towards the edge of the drop off, then tripped, giggling as she waved Papyrus off with a tired smile. "See? 'm completely fine."

"YOU NEED REST, HUMAN. I UNDERSTAND THAT MY PUZZLES ARE DOWNRIGHT IRRESISTIBLE, BUT I WOULD MUCH RATHER YOU NOT PUT YOUR HEALTH AT RISK TO DO THEM."

Regardless of Papyrus' questionable cooking skills, Dipper had to agree with him here. She wasn't nearly functional enough to solve a puzzle that had originally been created with the intention of capturing them. Instead of listening, however, Mabel stuck her pink tongue out, dancing out of arm's reach until she slipped, falling backwards on the ice, her brown eyes widening with confusion and shock as it carried her without any resistance right over the edge.

"Mabel!"

No.

Not again.

This could not be happening _again_.

He'd been standing right there, right next to her, and she'd disappeared, swallowed up by the earth faster than he could blink. It was like a nightmare. With a fury stronger than anything he'd ever felt before burning like an inferno in his brain, Dipper turned on Papyrus, yelling, "How is this taking care of her?! You said-" But the skeleton wasn't listening, already a blur of motion as he took a running start and leapt off the edge.

"well," Dipper jumped, spinning sharply with a mouth that split into a snarl at the sight of the smaller skeleton moseying his way up to meet him, "can't say i expected that. though i wouldn't say it's completely unexpected, either." There was a gruff, almost strained quality to his voice that Dipper was far too worked up to notice.

"Your brother just dove off a cliff to save my sister. Don't you _care?"_

"pap's just being dramatic." Sans twisted his body so he faced the slope that branched off the side, "there's a ledge not too far down from here that's covered with enough loose powder to make falling on it feel like landing on a pillow. pap and i made snowmen down there the other day. well, i made a very handsome pile and he made a bodybuilder with his face on it."

Echoes of laughter drifted up from below, giving his words undeniable weight. Still angry despite the knowledge that his sister had never actually been in danger, Dipper slipped out of his coat, holding it out for Sans to take back. When the skeleton made no move to take it, he explained, "We're almost in town, right? I don't need this, anymore."

"you're saying that cuz you're scared, not cuz you mean it." Angry. Not scared. There's a difference. "watching something awful happen to your sib'll do that to ya, but i'm gonna wait 'till you've cooled down some to get that back. no sense in making more work for myself by letting you get sick, too."

Gritting his teeth, Dipper pulled the coat back on. Even knowing Sans was right didn't make it any easier to swallow. "If you're not worried, then why are you here?" He didn't seem the type to do anything unnecessarily.

Loud, crunching footsteps, accompanied by a high voice bubbling with laughter distracted Dipper, who inadvertently turned his back on the smaller skeleton to watch his sister ride up on Papyrus' shoulders.

"Hello, citizens! It is I, Mabel, riding in on her valiant steed!"

"NEIGH HEH HEH HEH! AND IT IS I, PAPYRUS, THE VALIANT STEED!"

Dipper waved; genuinely relieved to see they were both okay, then felt the hair raise on the back of his neck. He spun around, not panicking but definitely alarmed, to find that there was nothing but empty air behind him. Sans had left without leaving any trace of his presence behind, not even prints in the snow. Honestly, Dipper wasn't sure why he'd ever expected anything else.

Once Papyrus reached the top, he knelt down, allowing Mabel to clamber off his shoulders. She was covered in white snow again, but seemed wide awake now that she'd tumbled off a cliff. "That was fun! There were these really cute snowmen down there, Dipper!" Papyrus flushed a little at the praise, a goofy grin filling up his face. "We should build some, too!"

Dipper took her by the shoulders, gently guiding her towards the ice. "Bed and shower first. Snowmen later." This time, he analyzed the puzzle until he was confident in the solution, then tested it out himself. Knowing that falling wouldn't result in any harm allowed him to have some fun as he slid from X to X, flipping them easily and quickly as Mabel watched. It wasn't until he'd submitted the solution, a feeling similar to that which filled him after acing a quiz or completing a crossword warming him up from the inside, and reset the board, that he guided Mabel through it, that warm feeling increasing as she glided gracefully from space to space and laughed, full and real and honest.

And when they were both successfully on the other side, the ice stretched out, forming another narrow bridge for them to cross, but before they moved forward, Mabel glanced back, curious as to why Papyrus wasn't following. "DO NOT WORRY ABOUT ME, TINY HUMANS. I WILL MEET YOU IN TOWN. FIRST, HOWEVER, IT APPEARS I HAVE MISPLACED MY BROTHER." Striking such a pose that would put Shakespearian actors to shame, he boomed, "PLEASE REMEMBER, HUMANS, THOUGH FATE OR PUZZLES MAY DRIVE US APART, MY SKELETON HEART SHALL ALWAYS-"

"Come on, Mabel," Dipper hooked an arm around her elbow, tugging her away, "time to go."

She let him drag her away without a fuss, but blew Papyrus a kiss before the rows of closely grown trees blocked them from sight. He reached back, making a big show of catching it, and she snickered into her scarves. Seeing him so happy and energetic was lifting her spirits, too. Dipper sighed at their antics, shaking his head, "You're gonna give him the wrong idea like that. Just because you know you're teasing doesn't mean he does."

"Pfft. Nah. He knows we're just playing." Papyrus was like a big kid or a perpetually playful golden retriever. Why would he be interested in dating when he was already having such a great time making puzzles?

Choosing to drop the subject for now, Dipper focused instead on the wiping the snow that fell from the overhanging branches off their heads. "If I never see another snowflake for the rest of my preferably long life, it'll be too soon."

A sneeze jolting her head enough to dislodge whatever snow Dipper had missed, Mabel couldn't help but agree. Still, she took the time to coo over the tiny doghouse they came across, clapping her hands delightedly when Dipper read the sign out loud, "Woof."

"That's so cute!" She spun around in a circle, searching for the little puppy that must have slept under its roof. "Do you think the puppy's close by?" With their luck, he wouldn't doubt it. They walked further, breathing twin sighs of relief when another bridge, hopefully the last one, became visible. All they had to do was walk up to it and… Was that a tail sticking out of that snow poff?

They crouched for a better look, and then a dog's head popped out of the front, yipping as its tail began to wag. Mabel squealed, and Dipper allowed himself a small smile. It really was a cute pup, and too small to do them any real damage. Guess he'd been wearing himself out worrying for no… reason…

As Mabel reached out to pet it, the dog stood up.

And up.

And up.

And _up._

It let out another innocent sounding yip as it loomed over them in a full suit of polished armor, complete with chest plate and gauntlets, and a sharpened spear in its paw. The longer the twins stayed silent and still, the closer it inched, until Dipper tightened his grip around the twig he'd used to draw the diagram. He'd never put it down. Then he raised his hand and threw it. "Go fetch, boy!"

 _Please work._

Thankfully, it chased after the stick, clanking and clanging as it lumbered after it, and Dipper snatched up Mabel's hand, gripping it tightly as he sprinted towards the bridge. This had to be the last stretch, because neither of them were up for anymore monster encounters or puzzles. Mabel's adrenaline tank was starting to run on fumes and if he wasn't going to kill anything than he was going to need some actual rest and maybe something caffeinated.

"HUMANS!" Definitely something caffeinated. "THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN A VERY CHALLENGING, VERY DANGEROUS PUZZLE HERE, BUT SINCE WE ARE FRIENDS NOW, I WILL NOT BE ACTIVATING IT." How did they even beat them here? There was no way Papyrus could have walked past without either of them hearing him from a mile off.

Papyrus walked onto the bridge. "INSTEAD, I WILL CARRY YOU TO TOWN." The twins sagged with relief, each of them past the point of caring about appearances. It sounded like there was a bed and warm water waiting for them in the near future and that was all that mattered.

There was a scraping sound, though, and a flash of green, something ropey on the snow that Dipper didn't quite catch, but one look at Mabel and he knew that she'd seen it too, and whatever it was, it wasn't good.

The trap activated, dropping a swinging mace and spear above their heads that sliced through the air, their spikes and blades razor sharp and remorseless. There was also fire and a cannon and a little white dog dangling from a string, because why not?

Papyrus froze, caught between the mace's jagged spikes and sharp point of the spear. Strong as he was, a blow to the ribcage from either of those weapons would be a bit much for even a skeleton as great as he to handle. "UH, SANS?"

"didn't do it, bro." The twins, growing increasingly horrified as the deadly weapons crept closer to Papyrus with each swing, reacted to the carefree tone of Sans' reply with blatant disbelief. Then they actually swung their heads to look at him and saw, even from a distance, that the pinpricks of light in his sockets had been completely extinguished, that his grin was as empty as his eyes, nothing more than exposed teeth and bone. He flickered out of existence, reappearing within arm's reach of the switch, and deactivated the trap, sending the weapons back into storage before they could come within an inch of his brother's skull.

"WHEW." Beads of sweat dripped from Papyrus' forehead. "GOLLY, THAT WAS CLOSE."

He made to turn, relieved and grinning, but Mabel rushed forward, tugging at his gloves as she floundered for questions to distract him with, and then Dipper was at her side, asking for spaghetti recipes and fashion advice, anything that popped into his head. And Papyrus, flattered by the sudden interest, was only too happy to indulge them.

At first, Sans didn't quite understand what they were up to. Dipper craned his neck to see the skeleton staring back at him in silent bemusement, sockets dimmer than usual but not empty, and Papyrus followed suit, craning his neck to see his brother… not looking his best.

"SANS? ARE YOU WELL?" He was not. That much was obvious, and if past experience was anything to go by, he'd never admit it, but that did not mean Papyrus would ever stop giving him chances to.

"fine, bro. let's just get these kids to the inn so i can take a nap." Mabel perked up, thinking of the 50 G she'd held onto. It had to be enough for a night at the inn. She and Dipper only needed one room, after all.

"BUT YOU NAPPED ALL LAST NIGHT, LAZYBONES!" That wasn't long enough. He needed to nap forever. "AND THESE HUMANS ARE OUR GUESTS! THEY WILL, OF COURSE, BE STAYING WITH US!"

After reacting to that statement with an uncomfortably blank and drawn out stare, Sans began shuffling in the general direction of his bed.

"….nuuuu…"

Apologizing quickly to the humans, Papyrus wagged a bony finger sternly as he ran to catch up with his brother, who had already and improbably made quite a bit of headway with his shuffling and was fading out of view. "YOU GET BACK HERE, YOUNG MAN!"

When it became clear they weren't coming back anytime soon, Dipper shrugged. "You wanna just go to the inn? I don't have any cash on me..." Mabel unwrapped her scarves, revealing the bag of gold. Dipper whistled. "Okay, looks like we're rich. When were you gonna tell me we were rich?" It wasn't an accusation. He was just curious.

He didn't expect her smile to break like a cracked painting, not when they were three feet away from a banner decorated with Christmas lights and the town's name written in round, cheerful letters. Not when they were so close. She looked away, hugging herself. "I... Actually, about that... There's some things I need to tell you, bro bro. But not right now, okay? Can you just," she took a shaky breath, "wait? Please?"

...Did Sans steal the money? Was that what this was about?

As much as Dipper wanted to know, and he did, more than anything, it was clear that pushing would only make her more upset, so instead of asking one of the million questions bouncing around in his head, he simply said, "Okay." And she looked back at him, torn between open disbelief and a tentative sort of gratitude that stung more than it should have. "We can head to the inn and recharge," they both needed it, "but I want you to promise me you'll tell me everything afterwards."

She nodded, and then they leaned against each other, content to carry part of the other's weight as they walked with singleminded focus past the sign, past the shop that followed it, and into the cheerfully lit inn, where the pink bunny at the counter helpfully informed them that renting a room for the night would be 80 G.


	10. A Bad Seed

"Welcome to Snowed Inn," said the rabbit woman from behind the counter once the twins walked in and finished wiping their feet on the welcome mat. Snickering, Mabel elbowed Dipper in the ribs, who turned his head to the side and sighed. "Snowdin's premier hotel."

The carpet was soft under their feet, and long enough to curve around their shoes as they sunk into the light yellow fluff. They stepped forward, prepared to hand over the entire bag of gold if it meant getting to finally rest their heads under a ceiling, and preferably a heater. Mostly frozen limbs tingled and stung as the blood rushed back to fingertips and toes. They were a little embarrassed by the mess they made as rivulets of melting snow streamed over their skin, soaking the floor and marking their passing with deep impressions of wet footprints in the carpet.

The innkeeper smiled patiently to put them at ease, and Mabel immediately decided that she liked her, and not just because she had light pink fur or an excellent fashion sense, but because she seemed kind.

Though moving a tad sluggishly with fatigue, Mabel confidently placed the gold next the itinerary. "Hello! My brother and I would like a room for the night please." Leaning in close, Dipper quietly reminded her that there was no sun, and therefore no night in the Underground. In an attempt to rectify her mistake, Mabel said with an undercurrent of desperation, "We'd _really_ like to sleep here, please."

A fluffy little marshmallow with ears peered curiously at them over the counter. They blinked, glancing away shyly when they noticed the twins were looking in their direction. Mabel winked, happy to have such an adorable audience. It made resisting the urge to curl up right there on the ground and doze off a little easier. Big kids had to be good role models, after all.

After adjusting the sleeves of the borrowed jacket resting on his frame and straightening his back so he didn't appear quite as exhausted as he felt, Dipper flashed a quick thumbs up for the child. The innkeeper, watching them closely, said, "Of course. One night is 80 G."

The twins froze, paralyzed, as each of them struggled to comprehend the exact meaning of the innkeeper's words through brains that were suddenly refusing to function. Dread pooled in their stomachs as it gradually became clear that they'd soon have to step back out into the cold, without any of the rest or food they'd been counting on.

Dipper cursed himself for not considering the possibility that the gold they'd so easily acquired wouldn't be worth as much to monsters as it was on the surface, while Mabel began to shake once more, choking down a dismayed wail.

Regardless of the unfortunate turn of events, there was still a little kid in the room, and it was when things were hard that being a good role model really counted for something. No matter how much she may have wanted to collapse on the carpet and cry, no little kid was going to see her break down. She resolved to be brave, at least until she was standing outside again, whereupon she would likely descend into a blubbering and inconsolable mess. "Think of the children," she whispered solemnly to herself, then clapped her hands to cheeks, squishing her face together until she spontaneously grew fish lips. Quiet giggles met the display as the rabbit child grew bolder, their tiny paws pressing against the counter so they could better lift themselves up to see the show. After the fish was a monkey, and after the monkey, an elephant, complete with trunk and trumpeting noises.

She was tired, sure, but too tired to make a kid laugh?

Pfft. Like that could ever happen.

While Mabel focused on distracting the young monster from what was going on, an act which had the happy side effect of distracting her as well, Dipper attempted to brainstorm ways for them to make 30 G as quickly as possible and with the least amount of effort. Placing his palms on the counter, he said to the innkeeper, "All we have between the two of us is 50 G, but I'm willing to work for the rest. Or maybe… I could sell you something?" He was grasping at straws. Other than the clothes on his back, some of which didn't belong to him, he didn't have anything on him worth selling. All he knew for sure was "Look, I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, just please let us stay here for a few hours. I'm really very certain that if we head back outside right now, we won't get very far." The seriousness of the statement was undercut by a trumpeting noise. With an urgent nudge to Mabel's side, he whispered, "Would you _stop?_ " Here he was trying to convince the innkeeper they were prepared to drop at any moment (which they were) and she was going out of her way to act ridiculous. "You're practically passing out."

"I am _not_ ," came the response, several seconds too late to be convincing. Before he could call her on it, she jerked her head pointedly towards the kid behind the counter, and he understood. He didn't like it – sleeping in a bed was kind of a top priority – but that didn't mean he didn't understand. Casting a nervous glance at the rabbit child, Dipper wondered if he should make a funny face, too. It couldn't hurt their chances of staying, right?

Shifting awkwardly on his heels, gaze locked firmly on anywhere but the intended audience, he poked his tongue out.

In place of laughter, an uncomfortably long and drawn out silence followed.

Though he'd been freezing before, Dipper began to sweat. Didn't sticking your tongue counted as a funny face? Why wasn't the kid saying anything? Were they that unimpressed?

After finally popping his tongue back into his mouth, he snuck a peek at the kid, who was looking right at him, their head cocked in a curious tilt.

 _How. Do. Children? ?_

"Are you quite done?" The innkeeper asked calmly, every inch a stern mother as she interrupted Dipper's mild panic attack and forced the twin's attention back to her. They stood straighter, recognizing the no-nonsense tone. Mabel locked her knees to keep her legs from wobbling like wet spaghetti, while Dipper braced himself for the frigid weather outdoors.

When the innkeeper was certain they were no longer distracted, she bent, crouching low so as to be eye level with her child, "Why don't you wait upstairs, little one? I shall be along shortly."

The child hesitated, confused by the tense atmosphere. "Can they come, too?" They asked with hushed tones, gesturing to Dipper and Mabel. "You always say that sleeping helps recover HP, and they look like they need a nap."

The innkeeper nodded, the patient smile having returned to rest firmly on her face. "Of course." To Dipper, she said, "Why don't you go upstairs with my child? They will take you to your room and show you where the bathrooms are." The smile turned wry as she gave the two children a quick once over, taking in their bedraggled appearances and disheveled clothing with thinly veiled amusement. "I imagine you are in want of a shower."

She hadn't mentioned Mabel, though, so Dipper threw an anxious glance her way, more unwilling to take his eyes off her than ever. Last time he did, she'd tumbled off a cliff.

He turned just in time to catch the slightest widening of her eyes, the beginning of a worried frowned forming before she noticed him staring, and the honest vulnerability was hastily slipped under the white washing of a strained smile. With what was meant to be a reassuring slap on the back, she said, "Go on, Dipper. I'll be right behind you."

Pressing a hand to the stinging skin on his back, he gave a wary nod. If she thought he hadn't noticed her legs shaking, then she obviously hadn't seen any of the meticulous annotations he'd written in the margins of his newest copy of The Sibling Brothers series, but it was also apparent that she wasn't going to relax until it was just the two of them, and it wouldn't be wise to push the innkeeper's generosity any further by making her wait, so he gave Mabel's hand a quick squeeze and followed the innkeeper's eerily quiet child - Why were they still staring at him? Did he look like a carrot?! - up the stairs.

Once he was out of sight, her knees buckled, arms flying out to the counter to catch her fall. She missed and flinched, bracing for impact, when suddenly she was being held up. The innkeeper had reached over the counter to steady her. "Are you alright?" There was deep concern in the crease between her eyes, in the downward pull of her mouth, and being held the way she was, Mabel couldn't help but think of the way Toriel had picked her up and sent her to bed, how her own mother used to tuck her in at night and read stories about princesses that rode unicorns into sunsets. She drooped in the innkeeper's arms. "I suppose that was a silly question, wasn't it?" She leaned Mabel against the counter, then walked around to offer more substantial support as she guided her up the stairs. Her voice was high and lilting, rising and falling with a soothing cadence as she continued to speak, keeping Mabel's focus on her. "Did you both truly expect me to deny you shelter?" She expelled a breath in an indignant huff as she hefted Mabel over the final step. "I doubt even a human would be so cruel."

Though the impact was dulled by exhaustion, the unwelcome reminder of the resentment the monsters held for humans came like a physical blow. As she mentally cringed away from the words, the innkeeper carefully set her down on a stool. Mabel found herself staring into an antique vanity mirror. She looked different, not just exhausted but pinched and a little older, too. As an experiment, she pressed her fingertips against her cheeks, then pushed the corners of her lips up.

The face in the reflection grinned back at her, looking silly with fingers digging into their cheeks. It was a huge improvement from before, and even after Mabel let her hands fall, placing them instead on the smooth swirls carved around the mirror's frame, the cheer the sight had injected her with never faded entirely.

During this, the innkeeper, who'd been busying herself with digging an old silver comb out of a drawer, finally touched the familiar teeth and plucked it from the clutter, holding it high above her head with a satisfied click of her tongue. Once that was done, she placed three pins and a tie on top of the chest, and then began expertly teasing the knots out from Mabel's hair. "I've always wondered what it would be like to have long hair like this." A quiet laugh. "It's not easy to braid your sister's hair when it's hardly an inch long."

A particularly stubborn knot had Mabel wincing. "It's not always what it's cracked up to be." She pulled against the tugging, trying to keep her head still. "But I like my hair this way. I wouldn't change it for anything." On good days, it was bouncy and fun, and she could wear a variety of headbands to go with her variety of sweaters and skirts. On bad days, she could flop it over her face and scare Dipper.

Then a worrying thought having occurred to her, and she sprang up in her seat. "Oh! But short hair is great, too! I really like your hair. Does your sister have pink fur, too?"

The innkeeper, having finally detangled the entirety of Mabel's head, plugged in a blow dryer as she considered the question. Mabel breathed out a happy sigh when the hot air hit her face. "We do, actually. It's really the only resemblance we bear, though. Many are surprised when they hear we're sisters."

She kept speaking in low, soothing tones without asking many questions. It was hard to focus on everything she said, but Mabel realized with a thrum of gratitude that the innkeeper was trying to help her relax. Still, she managed to catch snippets here and there. For instance, Mabel learned that the innkeeper's sister ran a shop right next door, and that the small, sparely decorated room they were sitting in now was where her and her child stayed during the week, since someone had to take care of the monsters who either didn't want to go home or couldn't. Regardless of their reasons, it was good to have someone looking out for them, giving them a bed to rest in and a friendly smile at the door until they could stand back on their feet again.

Snowed Inn wasn't just a place to rest; it was a home away from home.

And the perfect place for two lost kids. "Thank you," Mabel murmured, still a tad overwhelmed, "for letting us stay here."

"It's my pleasure," the innkeeper replied with warmth as she added the finishing touches on the braid, pinning back the flyaways. Then she picked it up, placing it over Mabel's shoulder so she could see it, too. "How do you like it?"

With hushed awe, Mabel stroked the thick, evenly sized twists, following the braid all the way from where it touched her shoulder to the tiny tied-off tail at the end. "It's beautiful," she breathed. Swiveling around on the stool, she added with more fervor, "I love it so much! Thank you!"

She fell on the innkeeper like a wave crashing against the shore, wrapping her arms around her waist and squeezing. Her yellow dress smelled like lavender incense and bath salts. It was a struggle not to fall asleep in her arms. "Perhaps it would be best if you went straight to sleep. When you awake, I shall have a change of clothes prepared for you and some other essentials." The innkeeper suggested, quiet laughter threading her words as she shifted to support more and more of Mabel's weight. It wasn't until the door opened and a little white ball of fluff walked in that Mabel made any effort to stand on her own. Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she thanked the innkeeper once more and then, mistaking her child for a stuffed animal, tucked the little rabbit under arm before moving to slip out the door.

"If you would wait for a moment, dear?" Mabel stopped with her hand poised above the doorknob. Glancing over her shoulder with a question printed on her forehead, she waited for the innkeeper to continue. "I'm afraid my child is rather unaccustomed to sleeping with the guests." Confused, Mabel carefully scrutinized the cute little stuffed animal she'd picked up. Dark, oval-shaped eyes blinked owlishly back at her.

Oh. Oops.

Grinning sheepishly, she placed the child back on the ground. Fortunately, the innkeeper appeared to be more amused by the mix up than anything. "Well, it's off to bed with me. Beep boop!" And she beat a hasty exit, still feeling floaty and light with her new braid as she followed the sounds of snores across the hall to the room where she assumed Dipper was.

He was already in the shower, though, as evidenced from the steam streaming from under the door, so she laid her scarves and sweater on the long wooden table in front of the lamp, its dim light casting an orange glow over everything, and peeled back the covers. Then she slipped beneath them, resting her head on the pillow with an exhausted and relieved sigh. For what felt like hours but must have only been minutes, the water continued to run through the pipes, then a low hum joined in with the sound, and Mabel realized with an amused smirk that her brother was singing in the shower. He must have been trying to drown out the buzzy snoring coming from the next room over.

Heh. She'd have to make fun of him for it, later.

For now, though, she hummed along to the melody as she scooted over to leave him room, then finally allowed her heavy lids to fall, and was sound asleep before her next breath.

* * *

The rest was exactly what she'd needed. She woke up feeling energized, ready to meet the day and face whatever else the Underground had to throw at them.

She'd also decided to tell Dipper everything, and sooner rather than later. Putting it off any longer would only result in more second thoughts, more doubts, more excuses. So she rolled on her side, one slender arm reaching out to poke her brother awake, only to discover the other side of the bed was empty. There was a shallow depression in the mattress and she traced its edges, forming a picture in her mind of her brother sleeping next to her.

The lamp was turned off. It'd been on when she'd dozed off, so it must have been him, and the spot beside her was still warm, so he couldn't have gone far.

"Guess your brother doesn't care about you as much as you thought, huh?" Mabel let loose a startled scream at the familiar tone, then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, hoping ardently that no one had heard her. Terrified, she crawled back against the wall, vividly recalling the thick vines that had wrapped around her legs like snakes, and the dark, furious expression on Sans' face when he'd deactivated the trap, like he'd known it wasn't an accident. But so had she. She'd seen the green slithering through the snow, and those vines weren't something she could forget.

"You tried to kill Papyrus."

Flowey made a face at her, regarding the accusation with mild irritation, as though it were nothing but a needlessly unpleasant change in topic. "Oh, so you saw me? That was just a little prank." Though hidden and out of sight, Mabel could perfectly envision the sneer distorting his features as he continued with undisguised malice, "Something to remind a certain useless pile of garbage that he doesn't get to boss me around."

Shoving her fear aside – despite his elevated opinion of himself, Flowey was really just another bully, and the key to defeating bullies was to stand up to them, to never let them think you were too afraid to fight back - she crawled over to the side of the bed, squinting at the floor as she tried to get an idea of where he was. Not knowing was making the experience so much worse than before. "You tried to kill me, too."

"Oh, I wasn't going to kill you, then." He huffed, sounding mildly offended. It made Mabel want to pick up her pillow and throw it at him. "You were trying to leave in the middle of our conversation. It was very rude."

"You know what else is rude?" Mabel shot back. "Attempted murder!"

A derisive snort could be heard from somewhere among the shifting shadows on the ground. It was impossible to pinpoint its exact location, only that it was close. "It's always the same, isn't it?" The high voice deepened to a familiar drawl. _"You murdered my brother."_ Then it changed again, transforming into an anguished growl. _"You killed my wife."_ And finally, shrill and panicked, _"What did you do to my child?!"_

It was the innkeeper.

The pitch and intonation were exactly like her, except Mabel had seen the innkeeper's child right before she'd gone to sleep, had held them in her arms.

It was a trick. It had to be. Flowey was _lying_. "Stop it. Whatever it is you're doing, stop it right now!"

Slipping back into normal tones, he continued as though she hadn't spoken, "Honestly, what's the purpose of telling me something I already know? I know who I killed. I was there, remember?" Mabel's head reeled, her body tensing as it became increasingly difficult to ignore how easy it would be for this crazy flower to wrap his vines around her neck and choke the life out of her. And no one would know. No one would come. "Am I supposed to feel sorry?" From the way he was speaking, you'd think she wasn't even there. "If I were capable of that, would I really be murdering monsters in the first place?"

That last statement snapped her out of the swirling haze of emotions threatening to overwhelm her as it replayed over and over, until a gear that hadn't quite fit before clicked into place. "Wait…You're saying you can't… feel?"

She heard the sound of Flowey's stem snapping as he twisted to face her. "What did you just say?" There was a threat and a warning and a silent plea for her to drop it, but he'd been the one to bring it up, so obviously he wanted to talk about it on some level.

Gripping the sheets tightly, Mabel repeated, "You can't feel sorry? Can you feel… anything?" No response met her words, nothing but the quiet rustling of roots shifting through carpet. Taking the silence as a confirmation, Mabel muttered, "But that's so sad…" It didn't make up for the terrible things he'd done, or his rotten attitude, but even trying to imagine for a second what it must be like to be so empty, to feel nothing for her brother or her parents or her friends, made her voice come out thick and watery when she ventured to ask, "Do you, um, need a hug?"

"Touch me and we'll both find out what happens when you die." _Okay._ That was a pretty definite 'No' on the hug, then. She tried not to be too obvious about what a relief that was. Hugging the monster that tried to kill Papyrus would have been a little too weird.

As she stared at where she knew the wall to be without any idea of what to say next, something better occurred to her. In one fluid motion, she slid off the bed, landing on the floor with a quiet thump as Flowey hissed, having previously been exactly where her feet now occupied. Ignoring his angry protests, though not to the point that she didn't utilize them to keep track of where he was, Mabel flicked on the light.

The same soft orange glow from earlier flooded the room, and Mabel turned to the long table, relieved to see her scarves folded carefully in the corner, as well as backpack with her 50G in it, her old green sweater, and a new white sweater from the innkeeper, with a vibrant red heart stitched on the front.

There was also a hastily scrawled out note in her brother's handwriting that said:

 _Gone to the library. Be back soon._

 _PS: If you're not up by the time I get back, I'm doodling on your face._

Grabbing the scarf Toriel had made for her, she turned around to face the spot where she remembered hearing Flowey last, but there was nothing there. Her skin crawled with the sensation of being watched. "Um, so I'm just going to leave this scarf here." Plants had to worry about frost burn, right? "It was given to me by a very nice lady as a gift - you probably remember her from when she threw a tornado at your face - and I'd rather not part with it, actually, but it has magic in it, and I'm pretty sure you need it more than I do so," she shrugged as she tucked Papyrus' scarf and her old sweater into the backpack, then slipped the new one on, "take it or leave it, it's up to you." Frowning, she quickly added, "But if you leave it, I want it back. I mean it, Flowey. That scarf is too nice to be left on the floor and then thrown into the trash or something."

Kneeling, she placed the scarf down so Flowey could reach it. It wasn't until she was ready to leave that she heard his voice again. "So, you're going to tell your brother everything, then? About me? About Sans?" There was a note of vulnerability in the way he asked that made her stomach twist with guilt, like she was doing something wrong, like maybe the things she needed to confess weren't hers to tell … but filling Dipper in on what was going on wasn't the wrong thing to do. She knew it wasn't. And the fact that Flowey could make her feel otherwise, even for an instant, scared and angered her at the same time.

Fully aware that he could see her every move, she nodded, keeping her back to him. There was a suspicious lump in her throat as she realized that she didn't want to see him. Not if he wasn't wearing the scarf. Not if he'd rejected an act of kindness that had cost something that meant so much to her. It was the second and last chance she was willing to give him, and if even a part of what he'd said was true, or even if none of it was, it was so much more than he deserved. "This whole time… you've been trying to keep him from turning against us, haven't you? That's why you're hesitating to tell him about the souls."

Bristling, she replied, sharp and sure, "Look, I know what it is you're trying to say, but I think I know my bro better than you do. And, yeah, he'll probably freak out at first," it's not like she hadn't, "but he'll hear me out. Not all the monsters want to hurt us." And if he didn't believe her, then she'd just have to be extra convincing.

"But only because they don't know what you really are." Her body stiffened, betraying her, as the flower said aloud what she'd caught herself thinking more than once. "Has it ever occurred to you that it's not your brother turning against the monsters that you should really be worrying about?" A feeling of dread washed over her, leaving her ardently wishing that he would just leave it at that, that he would just stop talking and let her leave. "By hesitating to tell him about the barrier and the human souls, you've not only put your life at risk, but his life, too. So don't you think that, rather than turn against us, it's far more likely... that he'll turn against **you.** "

A mad cackle filled the room, bouncing off the walls, lingering even after he was gone. Standing frozen in the doorway, Mabel waited for the tremors running up and down her arms to fade so the innkeeper wouldn't have any reason to worry when she went to say goodbye. She didn't know what Flowey would do to anyone she told about him, and the last thing she wanted was to find out.

In a way, the experience had shaken one of her fundamental beliefs, one she'd held onto since she was very small, and all she needed to do was flip a switch and the monsters would turn into lumpy piles of clothes and hangers.

Because this time, the monsters in the shadows were real, and they didn't go away when the lights came on.


	11. Dissonant Frequencies

There was nothing left for her to do in the inn, so Mabel enthusiastically thanked the innkeeper on her way out, and was told that she and her brother were welcome to come back anytime they liked. On her way out, she gave the small rabbit child standing by the door an affectionate pat on the head. They fidgeted under the attention, still a little shy, before tentatively asking when her brother was coming back to play again.

Somehow, in the few minutes they'd been alone together, Dipper had managed to leave quite the good impression.

Feeling gooey on the inside now that she could say with confidence that her brother had made a friend; Mabel playfully ruffled the tuft of downy fur on their head, and assured them that her brother would definitely be coming around to play again.

Who wouldn't want to play with someone so cool?

They flushed, puffing up a little at the praise. Unable to resist any longer, Mabel lowered herself down to one knee, and wrapped her arms around them. Their fur tickled her nose as she lightly rested her head against their shoulder. "Thank you," she said, soft and sincere.

The child shifted in the embrace, carefully bumping their cheek against hers. "Are you okay?" They asked. "Do you need another nap?"

Though reluctant to admit it, even to herself, Flowey's little talk had left her feeling slightly less upbeat than usual. But with one last quick squeeze, she was on her feet again, hands on her hips like a superhero. "I'm more than okay now." She spun on her heel, planning to exit with dramatic flair, only to inadvertently body slam the doorframe. Clutching her poor throbbing nose, she quickly assured her concerned audience that she was okay with a loud and hearty laugh. "Ha ha. No worries! I _totally_ meant to do that, guys."

Though the child waved goodbye, successfully appeased, the innkeeper's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Sensing the increasing probability of a mom interrogation on the horizon, Mabel quickly chirped out one last farewell before ducking outside.

It took a moment to get adjusted to brisk outdoor air once more, but at least she wasn't exhausted. She and Dipper hadn't gotten the chance to really take in Snowdin before, and now that she wasn't dead on her feet, it was fascinating to see that the town consisted of a long row of what appeared to be old fashioned cottages. And according to the conveniently placed sign standing next to the expertly constructed igloo, there was even a series of underground tunnels to help the townspeople get from point A to point B with less traffic. Excellent! Why didn't every town have those?

The only problem was the tunnels didn't appear to have any sort of internal illumination. Without a flashlight or, better yet, a torch, anyone opting to traverse the tunnels would have to be willing to spend a short time stumbling blindly in the dark.

Wary of being both out of sight and out of reach, Mabel decided that she'd rather chance the traffic and travel above the snow, though she did appreciate them being called the undersnow tunnels and not the underground tunnels because everything was already underground and that would have been confusing.

Past the igloo, a fully clothed rabbit with a lopsided mouth was standing in front of his door, arms crossed over his chest. Directly in front of him, a peppy lady with a large greenish-blue ribbon pinned to the back of her head walked with her pet bunny on a lease.

It wouldn't have been all that strange if the lady didn't happen to be a bunny, as well. Although it didn't bother Mabel too much, the first bunny claimed that the sight disturbed him. Instead of answering, Mabel just shrugged, then walked up to ask the lady if she could pet her bunny.

"Sure!" The lady replied with a bubbly giggle. "You're more than welcome to pet little Cinnamon."

Breathing fast, Mabel collapsed to her knees on the ground, one shaking hand hovering over the tiny creature's glossy coat. "I'm." She began seriously, sweat beading on her forehead as she stared down at the tiny creature with focused intensity. "Gonna." The hand inched closer, quivering with excitement. "Pet!"

And she scooped the rabbit up, cuddling them happily as her fingers glided easily through the impeccably clean and fine fur. As Dipper would put it, she'd finally gotten her fix.

It was with a dopey and blissful grin that she finally placed the rabbit back on the snow, allowing it to paw at its whiskers, snuffle, and then suddenly sneeze, the force of which sent them tumbling backwards in a cloud of white powder.

Sitting back with a contented sigh, Mabel said, "Thanks so much for letting me pet your pet. I've been dying to for a while now, but it's kind of hard when…" She trailed off, inwardly debating if it would be suspicious or not to admit that most of the monsters she'd been dying to pet lately had been armed and trying to kill her.

Probably best not to mention it.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Snickering as though prepared to share a secret, the lady said, "I'm just ecstatic that someone else finds my little brother as cute as I do."

…Did she hear that right?

Patiently, Mabel waited for the lady to realize that she'd accidentally called her pet her little brother and correct herself, but the lady showed no indication that there was anything remotely strange about claiming to have her brother on a leash.

Suppressing a shudder, Mabel took the sudden mental image of what it'd be like to take Dipper out for a walk and imagined burying it so deep that the Earth's core would incinerate any trace of its existence. "Um… that's nice?" She replied with an uncertain note. Meanwhile, the other nearby rabbit monster, whose sensitive hearing allowed him to pick up on the conversation, appeared increasingly disturbed.

Were it not for him bringing up his discomfort in the first place, Mabel might have assumed that walking siblings on leashes was an accepted part of monster culture. Evidently, that was not the case.

However, his presence was a boon in one very important manner: The lady was obviously in need of a date! And who better to take her by the hand and woo her than someone who was roughly around her age, probably of the same species, and conveniently close by?

"Hey," Mabel whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards the lady with a hand cupped over her mouth. The woman glanced down at her, cocking her head curiously at the strange behavior. "You see that guy standing right over there?" She surreptitiously extended an index finger over her shoulder to point him out.

Playing along, the lady crouched to Mabel's height, nodding solemnly behind a paw. "Oh, I do. What about him?"

"Well, he's been staring at you this whole time." Tactfully leaving out the reason the lady had captured his attention, Mabel followed the statement up with assurance that she was a skilled and known matchmaker, known simply as Mabel the Matchmaker. Copyright pending. "I'm the best there is at what I do," though struggling to keep her demeanor professional – this was a potential client to what could someday be a booming business venture, after all - Mabel somehow managed to appear dead serious as she finished the pitch with, "and what I do best is very nice."

Deciding there was no harm in it, the lady allowed Mabel to talk her into introducing herself to the rather dour looking monster she'd seen many times on her walks but never actually taken the time to truly acknowledge before. When the town they lived in was so small, there wasn't really any excuse not to know each other better.

The only condition was Mabel had to hold onto her little brother's lease. He had a frustrating tendency to run off on his own when given the opportunity. "No problem!" She instantly agreed. "I won't let anything happen to a single _hare_ on his head. Now, go forth and enjoy the springtime of your youth!" The lady shook her head, but it was too late to turn back now.

Upon seeing the lady he'd been quietly observing begin to head in his direction, the guy gulped, edging closer to his door.

"Hi." She greeted, reaching out for a handshake. "I see you all the time but I don't think we've ever taken a minute to talk." He glanced suspiciously at the outstretched hand, and she waited, suddenly feeling very nervous and foolish.

Realizing that the budding interaction between two was in peril of quickly becoming irrevocably awkward, Mabel plucked the little toddler off the ground, setting him on her knee as she lifted and waved one of his tiny paws to give the impression they were cheering.

The lady's perpetual smile faltered at the sight, turning wobbly and uneven, only to be gradually replaced by a much softer, more genuine expression. Eyes shimmering with amusement and delight as the strange monster girl continued to puppet her baby brother into waving and bouncing on her knee, the lady cupped a paw to her mouth and snickered.

It was while she was laughing at their antics that a sudden pressure in her palm made itself known. The man at the door had accepted the handshake, his fur glowing pink. "So, that's, um," he coughed, refusing to meet her gaze, still holding onto her hand, "your little brother?"

Not too long after that, he opened his door to invite her in for tea and carrots. It was rude to leave her standing out in the snow, after all. Especially when she was still in her workout clothes.

Relieved, the lady quickly agreed, then excused herself to collect her brother from Mabel. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said, "I can't say for sure if I'm ready for romance yet, but thanks to you, my brother and I seem to have made a new friend." After brushing away a few loose strands of hair from Mabel's forehead, she bent to press a chaste kiss against it. Blushing with surprise, Mabel slapped a hand to the spot. "Keep smiling." A playful wink serving as her parting gift, she said, "The world is a brighter, kinder place when you do."

* * *

Once the rabbit monsters had all disappeared inside the house, Mabel let out a happy squeal of triumph, jumping excitedly with a raised fist as the ashen gray bear kneeling by the Christmas tree watched, an amused snort escaping his snout. He was smaller than the bears she was used to seeing in documentaries, and wore an actual coat over his fur that was the same shade of clementine orange as her brother's scarf.

The Christmas tree was lovingly decorated with glass balls and bobbles, with a golden star glowing from the highest branch. But the best decorations were the paper cutouts of snowflakes and presents and three-eyed reindeer, as each was covered in the large, loopy scrawl of small children. The tips of the boughs were frosted white, and as she stared, the bear took the time to explain that it wasn't actually a Christmas tree at all. The tree and presents were originally set out to cheer up a monster who'd been bullied by local teenagers, but now it was a celebration for everyone.

Curious, Mabel turned over the tag on the nearest present to see that it was addressed to Papyrus. The handwriting was small and cramped with such little space available, but otherwise legible. Oddly enough, it was also an exact match to the writing she'd seen on her Nice Cream wrapper.

It didn't take a detective to put the pieces together.

Setting the tag down with a knowing smirk, Mabel climbed to her feet and then brushed off her knees with a few quick swipes. It was quickly becoming apparent that everything and everyone in Snowdin were located within a stone's throw of each other, as Grillby's restaurant, the one Sans had mentioned before, was only a few steps to the right away from the decorated pine tree.

Adjusting her backpack with a huff, Mabel wondered if the 50G Sans had given for her and Dipper would cover the cost of a meal for three – four if Papyrus wanted to come.

She waved at the russet bear standing in front as she drew close, drinking in the sounds of casual conversation, the clinking of silverware, and barking. Lots of barking. It all seeped through the cracks and under the front door, a taste of something lively and fun. Remembering what Sans had said about the bartender, she stopped to press her hands and nose against the tinted window, peering inside like a child at an aquarium. It was difficult to make out, but there was definitely a flickering glow behind the counter. She squinted, and the glow became a fire, a crackling flame that wore glasses and a bowtie as he wiped down the glasses with a clean rag.

Though dying to go inside and mingle, Dipper had spent long enough in the library and was probably up to his neck in books, needing someone to come and dig him out, so Mabel reluctantly peeled her cheeks off the window, leaving behind a perfect smudge of her face, to which the bear raised an incredulous brow, then set off to find the library.

Luckily it, like most of the buildings and homes in Snowdin, was not the least bit hard to find. All she had to do was stroll past an adorable three-foot, floppy-eared mouse wearing a green scarf so long it dragged on the ground, and their tall friend in the burnt orange cape and horned mask, and then there it was.

The light blue of Sans' jacket caught her eye, and she waved, only for her brow to furrow in confusion when it turned out that the slick white body wasn't Sans at all, but a snowman built to look like him. Had it been wearing shorts and a pair of fluffy pink slippers, it might have been more convincing. Already feeling a measure of pride in what could only be her brother's handiwork, Mabel examined the SnowSans with a critical eye. To represent the sockets and nasal cavity, two night black stones and various pebbles were pressed into the round head, where the snow had been smoothed and packed until it glistened, resembling a bare head of bone. From far away, the figure looked exactly like the genuine article, which was likely what her brother had been going for when he made him.

Knowing him, the SnowSans was meant to function as both a prank and a very clever coat rack. Eventually, Sans would spot it (or someone would mention it to him), have a good chuckle, and then reclaim his jacket. No harm done. No muss, no fuss.

She spent the next few minutes blowing clouds of mist into the air as she gathered branches, laying them around the SnowSans' base until only the lower lining of the jacket was visible.

Wiping her brow, Mabel observed her handiwork, brimming with satisfaction. Sure, the jig would be up once anyone tried to strike up a conversation with the snow sculpture, but that could be amusing to watch, too. Pranks like this usually led to some very entertaining facial expressions.

With that in mind, she went to find a good hiding spot, then skidded to a stop. Something about the sign was bothering her… Wait. Librarby? Was the sign over the entrance to a library seriously misspelled? Oh, that was _hilarious_. Dipper must have pitched a fit.

Chuckling quietly to herself, she crouched behind the corner of the building, completely out of sight unless approached from behind. In which case, she was impossible to miss.

She didn't have to wait long to find out if her minor improvements had increased the prank's chances of success. There was a rustle, a crash, a dull thud, and then a surprised yelp, followed quickly by a series of profuse and horrified apologies. Mabel slipped out from her hiding spot to see a Monster Kid trying desperately to screw the SnowSans' skull back on by balancing it on their head and then nudging it into place. "Like, I am so very sorry, Mr. Sans. I- I didn't mean to knock your head off. Here." They released the head. "All better!" And it promptly slid off its neck.

The kid leapt to catch it, but then accidentally impaled it on one of the spikes lining the back of their head. It was after they started screaming that Mabel finally made her presence known. "Woah!" Arms raised in the universal gesture for calm, she continued, "Settle down. You're okay. Sans is okay. Great, even! Couldn't be better!"

They turned to her with tears in their eyes, SnowSans' head still stuck fast on their spike. "Does he look okay to you, dude?!" They spun around in a circle, trying desperately to dislodge the head. "Please don't tell my parents about this," the kid pleaded miserably.

It was taking some serious self-restraint not to laugh. "That's not Sans. That's just a snowman my brother made to prank him. The real Sans is probably at home sleeping or something."

"Really?" They sniffed, anxiously whipping their tail back and forth. "Well, I guess that makes sense. This skull feels like it's starting to melt." Shaking her head with tamped down amusement, Mabel removed the snowball from the kid's spike and then carefully fitted it back on the body, reorganized some of the misplaced rocks and pebbles until it looked just like Sans again.

"So, you're not wearing a striped shirt." Mabel returned the statement with a blank expression, too confused by the non-sequintar to guess what it meant. "Does that mean you're not a kid?"

It took a moment for the question to process, but once it did, Mabel felt herself grinning broadly. Reaching into her backpack, she dragged out her old sweater, pulled it over the new sweater the innkeeper had given her, and then struck a confident pose. "Who were you saying's not a kid?"

The monster kid lit up like a firework, their tail thumping as they jumped with excitement. "Oh, so you are a kid? That's great! You wanna go with me to find Undyne? She's the coolest!"

There was that name again. Papyrus had mentioned it, too, back when they'd first met and he'd wanted to capture them so he could get into the Royal Guard. Captured humans went to Undyne, and there was only one reason Mabel could think of as to why that made any sense: They still needed a seventh soul.

Though the amount of time Mabel took to reply would not have passed unnoticed by most monsters, Monster Kid merely bobbed and bounced, waiting patiently for her inevitable agreement while he tried to balance himself on the backs of his heels. "She really sounds amazing…" Mabel started carefully.

Not content to wait, Monster Kid immediately jumped in with, "She is!"

"But my bro's in the library right now and he kind of forgets to come up for air whenever he's around too many books, so maybe we could go find her together another time?"

The kid agreed with unexpected ease, assuaging Mabel's fear that he'd be disappointed, then sprinted off towards Grillby's. He stumbled, falling flat on his face, and Mabel moved to help him, but he was springing up and running once more before she'd managed more than three steps in his direction. The bears greeted him with a casual sort of familiarity when he ran up, and then patiently listened as the kid immediately started to chatter about how cool Undyne was.

Judging by the fond, knowing looks the bears shared, listening to the kid babble about his idol was very likely a part of their daily routine.

Well, that was fine, wasn't it? The kid would run around, wear himself out, and then forget all about taking her to go see Undyne. Kids were good like that. And she'd never said she'd go with him, either. Not really. And it wasn't like she and Dipper were never coming back…

Except they actually weren't, were they? Not as long the barrier was up and the monsters needed a soul. They couldn't.

She reached into the backpack for the cellphone Toriel had given them and stared at the dial pad, her fingers hovering over the keys. Then she shoved it back down into her backpack, breathing hard. Suddenly feeling very small, Mabel turned to say to the snowman, "Hey, this doesn't make me a bad person... right?"

And maybe it was just in her head, but the carved out grin was suddenly looking pretty judgmental to her. Frowning, she pulled the hoodie over its head, tugging it down by the lining. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly one to judge, are you?" It didn't say anything, but hearing the words out loud still made her feel irrationally guilty. Frustrated, she tugged at her braid. "Ugh. No, listen, I didn't meant that." Might as well get it all out now. It wasn't like there was no anyone close enough to hear her if she kept her voice down, and maybe pretending this was the real Sans would help her think. It was worth a shot. "You - Well, not really you, but you know what I mean - didn't have to help us get past Doggo, or save me from becoming plant food, or give up the money you won. You also didn't have to deactivate the trap," though that had been more about Papyrus than them, "but then you ran away when your brother offered to let us stay at your place, and now I can't help but wonder if it was because you were tired, like you said…or because you were just tired of helping us?" She didn't want to find out, sometime down the road, that she'd made another friend who never wanted to see her again.

She waited, half expecting an answer, and then, "Mabel?" spun around at the sound of her brother's voice, cheeks burning. "Who are you talking to?" He glanced from her to the snowman with a skeptical brow. "You do realize that's not actually Sans, right?"

Grumbling under her breath, mostly because she'd been caught using her own prank as a sounding board, she shoved past him to squeeze into the library. He huffed out a short laugh before following, and it was under the fluorescent lights that she first took note of the ugly, discolored circles under his eyes. The bags even seemed to have bags of their own, and the initial wave of Mabel's embarrassment faded at the sight of them, turning quickly to one of subdued concern.

He shook his head, moving back to the stacks of brightly colored books on the table. "Couldn't sleep." He pulled out a yellow book and began leafing through its pages rapidly, like he'd read it before. "It's no big deal."

The librarian standing behind the counter seemed to disagree, as she gave a disgruntled snort at the admission. "You haven't been harassing the staff or anything have you?" Mabel asked as she sidled up next to him, regarding the largest stack with some trepidation, as it hadn't occurred to her before that the very thing she wanted to tell him could be found in the library books. "Have you, um, found anything yet?"

Scratching at his scalp, Dipper replied in a frustrated whisper, "Their sign is misspelled, Mabel. How is anyone supposed to take this place seriously when the sign is misspelled?" He shoved the yellow book away from him, spurring on a round of whispers from the other lady monsters around the table, then violently slammed a blue one down on its spine. "So far, this place has been a wealth of useless information. All I've learned is that monster SOULs are made of sunshine and rainbows, and that she," he jerked a thumb to the woman sitting at the far end of the table with a yellow horn protruding from her forehead, "should stick to writing games and comics, because her novels are beyond saving."

Even without hearing the words, the other patrons in the library recognized the annoyance in his tone, and bristled, hackles rising. Apparently, Dipper's less than great mood had been rubbing them all the wrong way for a while. Hoping to sooth the tensions a bit, Mabel stepped behind Dipper, mouthed an apology, and then pantomimed sleeping.

The brunette newspaper editor with green skin shrugged – deadlines had a tendency to make her want to stick the world in her mouth and chew it, too - then settled down to work on her word search with renewed focus. The last word search had been recalled due to a typo, though a few had managed to be printed before the mistake was caught, so now her and editor had twice the amount of work to do in half the amount of time. The woman sitting next to her appeared reluctant to let the matter drop, but eventually returned to work on her comic, though the grip she had on her pencil was unnecessarily tight.

"I haven't found anything that could help us." Dipper continued, oblivious to the silent communication that had taken place. "Not with how to get out or," he gestured vaguely to his head, "you-know-what."

Lowering her voice so only Dipper would hear, Mabel asked, "Do you think it's gone? Maybe it decided to leave and we don't even have to worry about it, anymore?"

Something haunted came over him. "No." His eyes were glassy, bloodshot, and even though he was staring right at her, Mabel couldn't help but wonder what it was that he was seeing. "It's not gone." His gaze locked on the bright scarlet wrapped around her neck, looking as though there was nothing he'd like more than to tear it off. "Not even close."

Resting a hand on his arm, she asked, "You wanna talk about it?"

At first, he seemed to seriously consider it, then something shifted, and he shoved her hand away, biting out harshly, "Oh, I don't know. Why don't you go first? What was it Sans said to you in the two seconds I wasn't around?" Lips curling from his teeth, he sneered, "For someone who's constantly going on about how I should trust you and how we shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other, it sure seems to me like you're more than okay with keeping a few of your own."

Confused and frightened, Mabel recoiled, backing away. And he didn't move to follow her, but his eyes narrowed, turning dark and cold and empty. "This place has been like a dream for you, hasn't it?" What was he saying? "Everyone likes you and half of them are talking woodland creatures, but to me it's just been… a really awful nightmare."

A low murmur rippled through their small audience as the ladies tried to decided whether or not they should interfere, or what it was that these two strange children were talking about, but neither of the twins could be bothered to explain. Or lie. For all and intents and purposes, it might as well have been just the two of them.

"It's not, though! It's real, Dipper! Everything is. And it's not as bad as you think." It wasn't just her. Papyrus liked him; the innkeeper's child liked him, and Sans probably did, too. Even if he did have a strange way of showing it. You didn't give the clothes off your back to someone you weren't at least a little fond of. "If you could just open your mind a little you'd see how amazing this world really is, and then you'd know how lucky we are to be here, because, little by little, it's already starting to see how amazing you are-"

"Do you really think that's the problem here? That I'm just not open-minded enough? Mabel, if I wasn't so open-minded, then I probably wouldn't even be in this mess in the first place!"

She shook her head, frantic. She was _losing_ him. "No, that's not what I-"

"If you like it here so much," Dipper snarled, familiar and alien and wrong, "then why don't you just stay here?!" And if Mabel's heart were made of glass, it would have cracked and broken and shattered across the floor. But he wasn't done. Not yet. "And one day, when they find out what you really are, you'll see that I was right all along, and you should have listened to me."

All at once, he shivered as though drenched in cold water, then stared at her expression as though seeing it for the first time. He reached out for her, torn between the need to apologize and the certainty that apologies weren't enough. Not anymore. But his sister stumbled backwards and kept going, slamming against a green wall of books, the shelf digging into her back.

The ladies at the table, seeing the very visceral reaction Mabel was having to his words, glowered at Dipper, ready to intercede if they had to. Struggling to stay in control because even if he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary, something wasn't right here, Dipper swallowed down the urge to snap at them to mind their own business. **Didn't they know how easily he could break them?**

"I didn't mean that." It came out hollow, but there wasn't much else to say, so he waited, the bunched muscles of the woman beside him and the librarian's tight grip on her phone making it clear just how disastrously he'd messed up.

It wasn't an eternity – it just felt like one – before Mabel strided forward to give his shoulder a light squeeze. "I know, bro bro. I know you didn't." Stroking the backs of the novels stacked on the table, she muttered, "Guess this really was a bust, huh?"

With a half-hearted shrug and a lifting of the corners of her mouth that used all the right facial muscles, she added, "But, hey, who knows what we'll find later on, right?" There was a weight, a sadness in her now, and part of him felt vindicated to see it, but it was only a small part. The rest was guilt-ridden, alone, and so very afraid. Because something was changing in him, shifting piece by piece every time he closed his eyes, and there was nothing he could do. And the worst part of it was - the more distressed and upset he became, the less it felt like there was someone else pulling his strings. Where was the line between what he wanted to do and what he was being made to think he wanted to do? Did it even exist? Was he being made to do everything or was he just using this as an excuse not to take responsibility for his own actions? He didn't know, was afraid of the answer.

He was slipping, drowning, sinking, dragging his lifeline down with him… And it was becoming harder and harder to care.

Mabel drew up a seat, burying her nose in a textbook he'd already read. From what he'd gathered, humans chased the monsters down into the Underground, where they set up their capital, and there was still some hard feelings about that. According to the history books, the monsters didn't believe humans were a species that was capable of love or compassion. When he'd first read that page, Dipper had scoffed in disbelief. It was hard to take the books seriously when one of them was obviously a hastily written book report. But if the monsters really still bore a grudge against humans for driving them underground, then didn't that explain why the Royal Guard had orders to capture them? And if the orders didn't necessarily require that they be captured alive, then it wasn't too hard to guess what had most likely happened to Toriel's children.

There was also an intriguing custom detailed in one of the novels, a tradition the monsters engaged in to honor their dead. They gathered the dust of their loved one, and spread it over their favorite objects. So, what happened when the dust was spread over something or someone the monster had hated, then? Was it like a curse? Somehow, Dipper doubted he'd been the favorite anything of the frog monster he'd killed, but it wasn't like there was anything he could do about it now. All the dust had already been washed away.

Even with these new insights into the monster's culture and history, nothing had changed. So the monsters were made of magic and not exactly humanity's biggest fans – he'd already known that. What they needed to know now was how to defend themselves. And the best way to learn was to fight a monster that wouldn't hurt them. But where would they find one of those?

He picked up the stick he'd placed on the table after he'd first walked in – it was a better weapon than the alternative - then stopped to stare at the lace place mat in the center with the kitten woven into it. Usually, that would have been one of the first things Mabel would point out when she walked in, but she hadn't mentioned it. Maybe she hadn't noticed it?

"Hey, Mabel?" She burrowed deeper into the pages, pretending not to hear him. He slumped down into his seat with a sigh. Maybe an apology wouldn't be enough, but it was a start, wasn't it? "Listen, I'm…" She glanced up, eyes wet, and his mouth went dry, lungs constricting as he forgot how to breathe. Then the numbness eating away at him retreated like a shadow fleeing from the sun, and the words came out easily, "I'm sorry."

Wiping at the brimming tears with the back of her hand, Mabel said, "Me, too…" Fingers danced deftly up and down her braid as she fidgeted. "Do you still want to know what I was going to tell you? It's not… that important now, I don't think. It doesn't really change anything, but-"

"Well, I asked you about the gold first, right? Why don't you tell me about that?" And he hadn't said anything about it before, but, "Also, that braid looks good on you. I noticed it after I got out of the shower, but you were already asleep so…" The rest of the sentence escaped him. Trying to engage in small talk with his sister felt really weird and awkward, somehow.

She agreed, relieved, and he listened, nodding occasionally, as she launched into an exciting tale about how there'd been this huge snow boulder that shrank when you tried to kick it, and just when it'd become abundantly clear that not even her extensive mini-put prowess would be enough to triumph over the dastardly magic snowball, Sans had asked if he could give it a try and got it in one kick. "And even though he'd earned the reward fair and square, he let me have it. He didn't have to do that, Dipper. There's a lot of things the monsters here have done for us that they didn't have to. And they could do so much more if you just gave them a chance!"

The librarian held a finger to her pointed snout and shushed them, forcing Dipper to lower his head so she wouldn't see his mouth moving when he replied, "I don't want to give them a chance, Mabel. I want to leave."

Visibly disappointed, Mabel folded her arms on the table to create a cushion she could rest her head on. Two layers of sweaters was a little too much to bear in a heated building and she itched at the fabric, plucking at the clusters of fuzz running up and down her sleeves with irritation. "This is what you'd call an impasse, right?"

While it was difficult to understand her when she spoke against her arm, Dipper heard it anyway. "Yeah." He scratched at his cheek, glancing to the side as his next exhale came out in the form of a low, rueful chuckle. "That's a pretty good way to describe it, actually."

It was in the midst of this brief moment of calm that a commotion could be heard coming from directly outside the library. Dipper sat up. "Is anyone going to check on that?" The ladies looked up from their work long enough to glance at the door and shrug. "Guess it's up to us, then." He pushed back his chair and stood, waiting with a desperate, pleading kind of hope for Mabel to stand, too. When she did, waving goodbye to the librarian and other ladies, it was impossible to keep the sheer relieve he felt from being written in every line of his body.

Careful not to open the door too quickly or too wide, lest a creak give them away, the twins pushed their heads out through the thin space to peer outside, and the sight made matching grins bloom on their faces.

"SO YOU ARE THE IMPOSTOR I HAVE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT!" Bone brow drawn together in an attempt to appear intimidating, Papyrus doubled over at the hip with his hands propped on his pelvis. "WELL, I SHALL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THERE IS ONLY ROOM ENOUGH FOR ONE LAZY BONES IN SNOWDIN, AND HE IS SLEEPING IN HIS ROOM AS WE SPEAK! OR AS I SPEAK… IT IS BECOMING RATHER CLEAR TO ME THAT YOU ARE NOT CAPABLE OF SPEECH." He straightened up, all past enmity forgotten as he gave the SnowSans an encouraging pat on the cranium. "NOT TO WORRY! I CAN SPEAK ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US! NOW, IF YOU WOULD BE SO KIND, COULD I PLEASE HAVE THAT JACKET BACK?" Predictably, the SnowSans didn't move. There was a long, drawn out beat where nothing happened, and then, "IT'S OKAY. I UNDERSTAND MY PRESENCE CAN BE A TAD OVERWHELMING. TAKE YOUR TIME."

"Wow." Did this even count as a prank, anymore? Forgoing stealth, Dipper nudged Mabel in the side. "Remind you of anyone?" It wasn't too long ago he'd poked his head to find her conversing with the very same snowman.

Catching his meaning, she promptly jostled him nearly off his feet with a nudge of her own. They slipped outside, allowing the door to close itself with a whuff of displaced air.

Momentarily distracted by the familiar voices and rustling coming from the library entrance, Papyrus turned his head to see the twins, and exuberantly greeted them with, "OH! HELLO THERE, HUMANS! I TRUST YOU ARE WELL RESTED! ARE YOU PERHAPS READY TO COME WITH ME TO MEET UNDYNE NOW..." He trailed off, distracted by the dark circles around Dipper's eyes. Frowning, he wondered if it was possible for the human to have taken sleeping lessons from his brother. "HUMAN, WHILE I DO NOT MUCH PARTAKE IN NAPS MYSELF, PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BEST IF YOU-"

"I'm fine." Dipper said shortly, shutting him down. Papyrus' jaw snapped shut with a click of teeth. Regretting snapping at him and also keenly aware of his sister's glare burning into the side of his face, Dipper added in a softer tone, "You haven't met many humans so you wouldn't know, but my eyes are just naturally like this. It's kind of an inherited trait." Which was technically true. Genes inherited from his father's side of the family had given him a higher tendency of developing dark circles at a young age, but the late nights spent reading with little more than a flashlight or the glow of his cellphone likely had something to do with it, too. Beside him, Mabel tensed halfway through his sentence, glancing backward and around as though checking to make sure no one else heard. When Dipper lifted a questioning eyebrow, she pretended not to notice.

"OH, WELL, OKAY THEN." Papyrus mumbled with little conviction."IF YOU SAY SO." Hearing the dip in enthusiasm, Mabel fixed her brother with an expression that was scrutinizing, contemplative, and something else he couldn't quite place, but before he could say or do anything about it, she'd already darted off to peel Sans' jacket off the snowman's thick arms. Once the jacket was free, she triumphantly held it out to the skeleton, bundling it up with the scarf she'd treasured for as long as it'd been in her keep, and Papyrus kneeled to take them off her hands, "THANK YOU FOR KEEPING THESE CLOTHES SAFE. ARE YOU QUITE SURE YOU ARE READY TO PART WITH THEM?" Since Dipper was the one in short sleeves, the question was mainly directed at him. In answer, Dipper shrugged with a noncommittal frown. It was probably fine to give the clothes back. He barely felt the cold anymore, anyway. Papyrus brightened. "WHILE I AM UNCERTAIN HOW HEARTBROKEN MY BROTHER WOULD BE SHOULD ANYTHING HAPPEN TO HIS JACKET, I CAN SAY WITH ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY THAT HE WOULD NOT BE THE SAME WITHOUT IT. HE WOULD, IN FACT, BE SANS A JACKET." Loud laughter erupted from his all the way down in his ribcage before he hurriedly shushed himself, throwing a cautious glance at the second floor window of the next house over. When no one stuck their head out and no incidental music played, he blew out a noisy sigh of relief, then rose to his full height and draped the scarf over his shoulders with care. "AS FOR THIS... IT IS ONE OF MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSIONS."

"Because you and Sans made it together, right?" He nodded, curious as to how she knew, though he had a strong inkling that Sans must have had something to do with it. Once he became aware of the mischievous grin spreading across her face, however, the curiosity took a turn towards a very familiar unease. He knew that look; it never bode well for the skeleton. "It must be pretty great - having the second best brother in the world, that is."

"AH, YES, IT'S-" There was a sharp double take, after which Papyrus replied with mild affront, "EXCUSE ME? SECOND BEST? I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT HE IS _THE_ BEST BROTHER IN THE WORLD!"

"Now, see, that's just not possible." She slung an arm around Dipper, squishing him against her side. "Because my brother is the best in the world!"

Papyrus wished his own brother had been close at hand so he could do the same. "OH, BUT YOU ARE MISTAKEN LITTLE HUMAN, FOR YOU SEE MY BROTHER IS THE BEST IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE!"

"Well, mine's the best in the whole galaxy!"

"THE MULTIVERSE!"

When no response was immediately forthcoming, Papyrus momentarily believed he'd successfully outwitted the small human child, but then she shouted out with a ringing voice,"Existence!"

And thus, the battle continued.

They went on like that, bickering good-naturedly back and forth like two kids on a playground, before noticing that Dipper had gone very quiet. He was staring thoughtfully at Papyrus, like a scientist analyzing the benefits of an unexpected variable. "Hey, Papyrus? We're friends, right?" He asked, then ducked to untangle himself from his sister and stepped forward.

Without a moment's hesitation, Papyrus enthusiastically and incredulously exclaimed, "YES! OF COURSE! ABSOLUTELY!" From the way he was acting, it was as though no one had ever offered to be his friend before. But that couldn't be right because Papyrus was so cool! How could anyone not want to be friends with him? And Mabel trusted her brother, believed in him, and would stay by his side no matter what, but if this sudden line of questioning was the start of some sort of ploy to deceive or manipulate someone as sweet and kind as Papyrus, she was never going to forgive him.

"And you'll do a favor for your friends, right?" Beginning to panic, Mabel reached out, trying to grab his arm to get his attention, but he deftly sidestepped, slipping easily through her fingers. And all without turning to look at her even once. She let her arm fall, wondering if maybe she was just overreacting, maybe it was just stress or that dumb flower making her jump to the worst possible conclusions and Dipper had everything under control.

"JUST NAME IT," the confidence brimming in Papyrus was overwhelming, "AND I WILL SEE TO IT THAT IT IS DONE!"

"That's good to hear." An eager grin spread across Dipper's face. "Because I want you to fight us."


	12. Good Intentions

Had Mabel been in the middle of gulping down a fizzing bottle of her own homemade energy drink, she'd have sprayed it all over Papyrus' dumbstruck face.

A quick, frantic survey of the surrounding buildings made it abundantly clear that they were on the very edge of Snowdin town, meaning anyone who could possibly put a stop to this rolling boulder before it gained too much momentum was either too far away to interfere or too out of the loop to understand why they should. It was like she was standing in front of a television screen, unable to do anything but pound her fists against the glass and scream as the heroes made that inevitable mistake, that one decision, whether it was climbing down into the creepy basement or opening the closet with the banging, growling noises coming from inside, that doomed them all. As Papyrus surged forward to enthusiastically pump Dipper's hand, all she could think was there was a disaster unfolding before her eyes, one where two people who were both very important would be inevitably hurt, and she had no idea how to make it stop.

"I AM TOUCHED, HUMANS, THAT YOU WOULD ASK ME, YOUR COOL FRIEND, TO BE YOUR SPARRING PARTNER. AND AFTER THINKING THIS OVER LONG AND HARD," for a whole five seconds, "I CAN SAY WITH THE UTMOST SINCERITY THAT I GLADLY ACCEPT!" Pure happiness emanated from him in waves as he continued to beam, unintentionally bombarding one of his two new friends with increasing levels of unbearable guilt. He would have given them anything they'd asked for, because he liked them and trusted them and wanted them to like him, too. It wasn't right to take advantage of that. It wasn't right to take advantage of him.

And Dipper, who knew better than anyone how awful it was to have an honest desire to fit in thrown back in his face, should have known that…

He wasn't a bully. He wasn't. He was better than this.

Every time she thought too hard about that, though, it was like she could hear her brother's voice syncing with Flowey's, heard the same poison issuing forth from two mouths, and had to quickly hug herself to conceal a shudder.

Absently, her hands went to grip the thin, somewhat worn scarf she'd worn over the past few hours, seeking its comfort, only to remember with a sudden twist that the red scarf was back with its rightful owner, and the other one, the one that'd been made for her by loving paws to keep her warm... was in the petals of the meanest flower she'd ever met. Knowing him, the creeper was still close by, probably eavesdropping behind a rock or a bush. Idly twirling a finger around a lock of thankfully dry hair, Mabel pondered what would happen if she randomly shouted out that she'd changed her mind and would very much like the scarf back.

In front of her, the boys – _her_ boys wore matching grins, both brimming with excitement and anticipation at the prospect of the upcoming spar, though for entirely different reasons. From the outside, they both looked so elated, and Dipper seemed really, actually happy for the first time in ages. It made her wish she could feel good about this, that she could banish the cold, hard sensation of dread pooling in her stomach and just be happy for their sakes.

There had to be a way to protect them both.

"WHY, WE MUST BEGIN AT ONCE!" Papyrus spun, ready to march from the buildings so as not to disturbed the townspeople with their enthusiastic sparring, a courtesy that sometimes slipped his most frequent and passionate sparring partner's mind. "THE SOONER WE BEGIN YOUR TEACHING, THE MORE YOU WILL BENEFIT FROM MY BOTTOMLESS CRANAL CAVITY… OF KNOWLEDGE!"

More than willing to follow, Dipper shifted to take a step forward, when Mabel's fingers curled around his wrist, bringing him to a sudden halt despite the surprisingly light touch. A little worried, Dipper asked, "What's up, Mabel?"

"Don't do this." She shook her head as though it were heavy, desperation making her eyes bright as lamplights as her grip tightened. "We can't fight him."

"What are you talking about?" He responded, sounding honestly confused. "He said himself that this isn't actually a real fight. It's a spar. I'm doing exactly what you asked me to do. We need to figure out how to get past the monsters without attacking them, right? Fighting Papyrus is the best and fastest path towards that goal. Observing how he fights and thinking of various ways to combat his attacks will benefit us in the long run. I'm sure of it."

"He thinks we want him to be our teacher, Dipper," Mabel replied slowly. There had to be a way to convince him to call it off. "He's really excited about it."

"Well, yeah." Dipper jerked his shoulders in a quick, careless shrug. "He kind of is, actually. I mean, teachers teach things and he's going to be teaching us how to fight so... I can't saying I'm seeing what the problem is."

Gradually loosening her hold on him, Mabel lowered her voice to only slightly above a whisper, "…If that's true, then why are you talking about Papyrus like he's another one of your science experiments?"

The question sliced through his rationalizations with the precision of a razor blade and the delicacy of a chainsaw. Gaping at the unexpectedness of it, he worked his jaw silently, struggling form a credible defense for an act that he hadn't been truly aware of until now, when they noticed Papyrus has poked his head around the corner. "HUMANS? ARE YOU COMING?" He paused, thinking, then added, "OR ARE YOU PERHAPS GETTING COLD FEET?" The pun didn't sound intentional, and neither of the twins were in the mood to draw attention to it, so they let it pass without comment. "BECAUSE IF YOU ARE, THERE IS NO SHAME IN FORFEITING THIS MATCH TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS. YOU CAN ALWAYS ASK AGAIN. NO MATTER THE TIME OR PLACE, I WILL ALWAYS BE UP FOR A CHALLENGE!"

After shooting a brief frustrated and guilty glance at his sister, Dipper assured Papyrus that no one was getting cold feet and, as though to make a point, strode ahead to keep up with the taller skeleton's long legs as he led them to an undeveloped part of Snowdin that led straight into Waterfall. Mabel moved to follow, too, but intentionally dragged her feet to slow the pace.

Shuffle. Stop to stare curiously at a mailbox exploding with letters and the empty one next to it. Shuffle. Direct a searching, pleading glance at the cheerfully lit windows, because if anyone could put a stop to this before it started it was the skeleton supposedly sleeping inside that house.

Stop.

Wait for a miracle...

But nothing happened. The door didn't suddenly swing open, the windows stayed shut. The cavalry wasn't coming.

It looked like she was well and truly on her own this time.

Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle.

If convincing Dipper not to fight didn't work, then maybe she could focus on taking such an excruciating long time to arrive on the sparring grounds that Papyrus would call it off.

Except Papyrus doubled back to pick her up. "DID YOU THINK I WOULD LEAVE YOU BEHIND BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT FAST? DO NOT WORRY, HUMAN. I AM QUITE ACCUSTOMED TO CARRYING AROUND SLOWPOKES."

Mabel squirmed, vehemently protesting that she could walk fine on her own, but if the complete lack of reaction from the skeleton was anything to go by, he'd gone temporarily deaf. Tucking her against his side, he bolted to catch up with Dipper, who had paused to regard the cat-sized blocks of ice he'd spotted floating down the river with an inquisitive quirk of his brow, and was quickly overtaken. "ON YOUR RIGHT!" Papyrus crowed as he streaked past.

It wasn't until they were far enough from Snowdin that only the dim glow of the skeleton's house could be discerned through the fog swirling over the ground that Papyrus set her down, leaving Mabel feeling dizzy and disheveled as she pondered this knew sense of kinship she felt with the luggage in the cargo department of an airplane.

Travel by skeleton, she decided, was rough.

Rows of forest green pines, their boughs dusted with white, on either side, served as a border between the path and the freezing waters beyond. Once Dipper had caught up and Papyrus was certain that he had the full attention of his audience, he strode further ahead, putting some space between them to give his mid-range attacks enough wiggle room to be effective while also giving the twins adequate time to dodge. It was difficult to use bone attacks from up close without doling out serious injury, and injuring your opponent was not the point of a spar.

A spar was a learning experience, a teaching experience. Not a battle to the death.

With that in mind, Papyrus had no trouble deciding which of his many dangerous and formidable attacks to utilize first.

Mabel and Dipper stood side-by-side, tense and ready, in the middle of a fog so thick they had to focus to squint and focus to discern Papyrus' blurry form. It was nerve-wracking, knowing he was going to attack soon when they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. While they were obscured and Papyrus was too distracted by the sound of his own voice as he psyched himself up to notice that the twins weren't paying attention, Mabel grabbed Dipper's hand and squeezed. "We're not going to hurt him," she said. It wasn't a question.

Seeing the determined glint in her narrowed eyes, like she was prepared to stop him if he tried, something raw and miserable passed over him. Things must have been really bad if not even Mabel believed in him, but that was why he needed to do this. "I already said I'm not going to." Hardening his expression, he looked ahead to where Papyrus seemed to finally be readying his first attack. "That's not what this is for."

Up ahead, Papyrus waved. "ARE YOU READY, HUMANS?!" They responded with a pair of stiff, tight nods. "GOOD!"

ready to haul the other out of the way of a barrage of some sort or throw themselves to the side, they waited, holding their breaths, but nothing in the landscape sprawling before them appeared to change. Papyrus flipped his scarf, looking very please with himself as the twins glanced around in confusion. Finally, Dipper noticed the row of thin bones protruding from the ground, each of them no larger than a toothbrush. They edged forward at a steady pace, passing harmlessly between their legs.

Grinding his teeth, Dipper wondered if Papyrus was going easy on them because they were kids. Even if that wasn't the case, an attack this pathetic wasn't going to teach him anything. "Is this the best you can do?!" Maybe a taunt would…

The next round of bones were smaller than the first. A low giggle from next to him was all he needed to hear to know Mabel's feelings on the matter. She nudged one with the tip of her shoe as it passed. "Maybe he's warming up?"

"YOU'VE DONE WELL TO DODGE MY ATTACKS SO FAR, HUMANS! BUT LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE MY FABLED BLUE ATTACK!"

Blue attack? No one had ever mentioned anything about a blue attack.

Not knowing what to expect, Mabel and Dipper kept a close watch on the ground, which meant they weren't caught unaware when Papyrus raised his arm and an onslaught of blue bones materialized out of thin air. They rose above the ground, above Papyrus, and then sailed towards the twins in a long arc before plunging into a steep dive.

"DON'T MOVE!" Papyrus hollered. "THIS IS YOUR VERY FIRST LESSON. BLUE ATTACKS CAN ONLY HARM YOU IF YOU MOVE, SO TRY NOT TO DO THAT!" He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "THINK OF SPAGHETTI. YOU STOP WHEN YOU SEE SPAGHETTI, RIGHT? NOW, IMAGINE THE SPAGHETTI IS BLUE!"

Mabel froze, flinching violently as the attack rushed at her arms and legs and face. She squeezed her eyes shut, only to open them a moment later when the explosion of pain never happened. There was a pile of scattered bones behind her, lying harmless with their magic spent. Somehow, they must have passed through her.

Standing close by, Dipper hissed, gingerly rubbing his right bicep with the hand that wasn't still holding onto the stick he'd found back in the puzzles. "I think I twitched or something but…" The grin he flashed her was more of a grimace, but she'd take it. "We know how to defend against blue attacks now."

Before she could respond, a sudden weight in her chest had Mabel pitching forward. She staggered, then collapsed to her knees with a surprised squeak. At first, all she could hear was Dipper shouting her name, then there was a choking, sputtering sound, and he was on the ground, too.

"YOU'RE BLUE NOW!" Papyrus helpfully informed them.

A small bone, similar to the ones they'd scoffed at before, slammed into their knees. The initial pain from the impact zinged up and down their legs, and Mabel cried out, eyes watering. Still, she managed a strained chuckle for the skeleton's sake, something to let him know they were okay. "That's good to hear. I certainly feel blue… but maybe that's because you're so far away?" Her knee throbbed.

Papyrus gasped, sockets widening to the size of golf balls. "W—WHAT?! FLIRTING?! SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR TRUE COLORS!" There was a slight chance that he might have misunderstood something. "CAN YOU MAKE SPAGHETTI, HUMAN?"

Mabel pondered that. She'd only recently started using the stove at home, and that was only under adult supervision. So far, she could make a mean omelet, but surely all anyone needed to cook pasta were the directions on the side of the box. How hard could it be? "I'm not sure, but I'd really like to try!" It took a colossal effort to get back on her feet, but she managed it. Then she grabbed Dipper by the arm and hauled him off the ground. "You really need to lay off the deserts, bro bro." She huffed. "You're starting to get really heavy."

Dipper grunted as he found his footing. "Hey, Papyrus, would you mind explaining that last attack a little?" He did his best to keep his tone civil, but it was a little difficult to keep a lid on all his built up stress when there was a bowling ball sitting behind his ribcage.

Unfortunately, and to his eternal consternation, Papyrus was too caught up in his imaginary romance to listen. "AH! HUMAN, YOU MUST BE DETERMINED TO MEET MY STANDARDS. I WILL REPAY YOUR AFFECTIONS SEVENFOLD. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD GLADLY GO ON A DATE WITH YOU!"

Stunned by the announcement, Mabel's positivity stuttered. "Um, you mean like a play date?" Papyrus clasped his hands, joyfully shaking his head. "A shopping date?"

Rejected. "NOPE."

Forgetting about the fight entirely, Mabel began to fret as any and all attempts to think of a way to decline Papyrus' date without hurting his feelings turned up nothing but buzzing white noise.

Unsure of what to do and, regardless of recent events, still very much in the habit of looking to him for answers, she turned to Dipper, who took one look at her and let out a resigned sigh. "I told you not to flirt with him." Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Try not to get too carried away just yet, Papyrus! We haven't finished our spar!" Acting on impulse, he threw the stick in his hand as far as he could, then gawked in amazement as Papyrus sprinted to catch it in his mouth.

Impressed, Mabel clapped.

"YOU ARE VERY RIGHT," Papyrus admitted after politely returning the stick, "THE DATE MUST BE SAVED FOR LATER." Dipper watched, wary, as he returned to his former position. Any second now and the next attack would commence, yet he still had no idea how to go about defeating him.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true. There was a surefire method of defeating him, a relatively simple one, but since it wasn't an option, it might as well have not existed.

Bones thick as Dipper's arm and as high as his hip came rushing through the snow at an increased speed as more projectiles rained down on the twins from above.

Ugh. What had possessed him into thinking this was a good idea?

"It's occurring to me," he paused, finding it difficult to speak and dodge at the same time, especially now that his limbs felt heavier than usual. It was throwing him off, making him overestimate his speed, "that I may have made a mistake here."

A small bone shot towards his ankle with the velocity of a ballistic missile. He attempted to jump over it, miscalculated, and landed flat on his face. If it weren't for the bone bullets zipping towards his head, he might have just stayed like that. Instead, he scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could manage without overbalancing himself.

"That's what I've been saying!" Mabel shouted, hopping over what looked like an average humerus. "Do you have any idea how many sweaters I am going to stress knit make we get home because of this, Dipper Pines?!"

Glistening, polished bones about the height of a track hurdle were prominent in the next wave. After seeing Mabel successfully clear hers, Dipper tried jumping over the top, only to catch his foot on the tip and fall face first in the snow again. This time, Mabel grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him out of the way.

Spitting out a mouthful of slush, Dipper asked of Papyrus, "Has he shown any signs of slowing down? Anything?"

She frowned, trying to remember if he'd shown any signs of stopping. She wasn't worried about Dipper, anymore. Not really. If he'd been planning to hurt the precious skeleton man, he'd have done it, already. "I'm pretty sure he's been dabbing either cologne or tomato sauce on his skull, but that's the only change I've noticed so far."

"YOU ARE DOING WELL, HUMANS!" Papyrus called, momentarily allowing his bones to float aimlessly, still coated in their billowing cerulean auras. "KEEP THIS UP AND I WILL BE FORCED TO SHOW YOU MY SPECIAL ATTACK!"

Groaning at the sheer relentlessness of Papyrus' positive attitude as he strained against the blue magic weighing him down to rise out of his crouch, Dipper grumbled, "I honestly can't tell if this guy is patronizing us or not." A stray bone darted through the snow to slam against his shin. "Ow!"

After watching wordlessly as he examined what was sure to become a very impressive bruise, Mabel asked seriously, "Want to call it off?"

Honestly? No. He didn't. This wasn't just about learning how to fight monsters, anymore. This was personal. Papyrus was so much stronger than he'd given him credit for, but quitting now, after he'd asked for his help in the first place, would be an insult. It would mean he'd only asked Papyrus to fight them because he'd thought he was too goofy to pose any serious threat, which admittedly wasn't all that far from the truth, but Papyrus didn't have to know that. He'd done nothing to deserve it. "Let's keep going."

A closely knit series of graduated bones sprang from the ground, most of them too high to jump over. Mabel leapt onto the smallest, then used the added height to climb onto the next, hopping from on to the other like she was skipping up the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she called to her brother, "Well? Come on!"

Doing his best to imitate her, Dipper jumped onto the first bone, wobbled, then leapt onto the next. Not even breathing hard, Mabel clambered over the top, then bounded down the remaining bones with the effortlessness of a dancer. As for Dipper, it wouldn't have been quite as difficult to keep his footing if the bones weren't constantly moving back and forth, but he managed it, somehow.

The next few waves were similar to that one, with the occasional blue attack thrown in. Sometimes, the twins found themselves forced to duck and jump at the same time, which rarely ended well.

Eventually, Dipper realized that there was always a gap in the drove, a space they could safely run or jump to in order to avoid getting any more bruises, but the gap changed at a rapid pace, and was rarely located in the same place twice. He started shouting out directions for Mabel, then decided that was taking too much time and pulled her with him. After a few consecutive rounds where no contact was made and the twins refused to fight, Papyrus readied his special attack.

The fog trembled as an indistinct form materialized within it, floating near Papyrus' head. It opened a maw full of crackling cyan energy. The hair on Dipper's neck stood on end, and Mabel tried to tear her gaze away from it but the creature was as arresting and transfixing as it was terrifying… and then Papyrus shooed it away. It rumbled grumpily, nudging its snout against his skull, but was firmly lectured and fussed at until it finally, and with no small measure of reluctance, allowed itself to be dissolved.

Chuckling sheepishly with a gloved hand bracing the back of his skull, Papyrus said a little breathlessly, "SORRY ABOUT THAT, HUMANS! NOW, FOR MY _REAL_ SPECIAL ATTACK!"

Cackling under his breath, Papyrus struck an impressive pose.

The twins shared a nervous glance. They weren't sure how Papyrus' attacks could possibly get any worse, their muscles were already protesting due to the toll the increased gravity demanded of their bodies, and they weren't keen on finding out.

A little ruffled by the news, Mabel inquired dryly, "Still think this was a good idea, Dipper?"

"I already said I didn't, didn't I?!"

The wait stretched to a ridiculous point before Papyrus realized with a shocked exclamation of displeasure that a little white dog was gnawing on his special attack. Dipper breathed a long sigh of relief as Papyrus furiously chided the dog for its misbehavior. Its eyes bugging out of its head, the dog gradually inched away, then broke out into a full four-legged sprint, taking Papyrus' special attack with it.

He stamped his foot, frustrated. "OH WELL. I'LL JUST USE A REALLY COOL REGULAR ATTACK." He sighed, clearly disappointed. "HERE'S AN ABSOLUTELY NORMAL ATTACK."

The bone bullets rained down from all sides, forcing Mabel and Dipper to run with their arms shielding their heads. The attacks fluctuated, changing height and speed and making it infinitely harder to judge when the best and safest time to dodge was. One of them caught Mabel's leg mid-jump, resulting in her slamming against the ground on her side. She frantically twisted out of the way before a bone could skewer her torso, and then Dipper was there, pulling her back to her feet. "Papyrus! Please, man, I changed my mind! This is too dangerous!" The skeleton didn't reply, his sockets were closed as he focused his will and magic into manipulating the bones to form the image he'd painted in his mind.

The little white dog ran past, still contentedly munching on Papyrus' special attack, and then a long string of magically floating bones came charging towards them. Even while fearing for his life, Dipper realized that the pattern of the attack wasn't random, and took the time to read aloud as he scaled the first letter of: **COOL DUDE.**

Shaking his head in amused disbelief, Dipper shouted to Mabel what the words were over the sound of rattling bones. She laughed, exhilarated and fierce as she ran across the second word and jumped down, then sidestepped to avoid the large bone riding by on its skateboard.

On the final letter, Dipper slipped, his legs flailing as he tried to find the ground. Mabel rushed back to grip him by the waist and help him down.

For a moment, there was nothing, and they thought it was over. They'd endured. They'd lasted an entire fight and without hurting anyone!

Then a forest of bones sprang forth from the Earth, every one of them them too high to jump over and too closely packed to climb.

It was going to crush them.

Before they could do more than open their mouths to scream, a soft blue enveloped the kids, lifting them up and over the endless sea of bones. It was an incredible feeling of weightlessness that they'd never experienced before, and they kept soaring higher!

Dipper let out an exhilarated whoop, then yelped as the blue magic seemingly faltered, dipping him closer to the bones below, only to lift him up high again before any damage could be done. The process was repeated several times, drawing out panicked squawks from Dipper with each new drop, as Mabel struggled to retain a straight face. Funny as it would have been to see him pranked under normal circumstances, it didn't feel right to laugh when he was already scared out of his wits. Plus, it wasn't her doing the pranking, and if it wasn't her scaring her brother, then it was someone who didn't really know him or anything about him. Next time Dipper started to drop, she aimed a broad and disapproving scowl at the tree line.

Gradually, the fluctuations in his flight path evened out.

At the end of the bone forest was a massive bone the size of a building, too large for even a dinosaur, and the twins craned their necks, struggling to see the top, which was obscured by a cloud hovering beneath the cavern's ceiling. The blue magic rapidly raised them up, allowing safe passage over the very top, and then they came rushing back down, screaming as their stomachs flipped and the wind whipped at their hair and clothes.

It vanished when they about a foot off the ground, letting them drop unceremoniously in the thoroughly marked snow.

With one final, tiny bone crawling towards them, the twins pulled themselves off the ground, dusted themselves off, and effortlessly stepped over it.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" Papyrus said, panting with exhaustion. "YOU'VE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR FIRST SPAR." He'd obviously exerted himself, but Dipper failed to see how. Did standing still while his bone attacks did all the work really take so much out of him?

The textbooks in the library had said that the physical forms of monsters were made of magic, so when a monster used a magical attack… it drained their stamina. Maybe it wasn't life threatening, but using magical attacks, especially the more powerful ones, definitely weakened them.

That was it! All he and Mabel had to do was keep dodging until the monsters wore themselves out, and they'd be home free in no time!

"SINCE YOU'VE COMPLETED YOUR TRAINING, I'LL GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS TO THE SURFACE." Papyrus told them to keep moving forward until they reached the end of the cavern, and then once they got to the Capitol, cross the barrier.

At his side, Mabel stiffened, glancing anxiously between him and Papyrus, but Dipper was too focused on what he was hearing to pay her any attention. "THE BARRIER IS THE SEAL THAT'S KEEPING US HERE. ONLY SOMEONE WITH A POWERFUL SOUL CAN PASS THROUGH IT… SOMEONE LIKE YOU TWO! THAT'S WHY THE KING-"

"Papyrus!" Mabel interrupted with an earsplitting, high pitched shout, running to stand directly in front of the skeleton. "Let's date!"

Dipper's brow furrowed with confusion. Hadn't she originally been against dating Papyrus?

"OH. RIGHT NOW, HUMAN? WOULDN'T YOU RATHER TAKE SOME TIME TO REST? A SPAR CAN BE VERY STRENUOUS... NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT... NYEH."

"Absolutely not! I am 100% good to go." She spun around sharply to march back to Snowdin and tripped over her own feet. Reacting quickly, Papyrus grabbed onto the back of her sweater to keep her from falling. With a feeble chuckle, Mabel peered over her shoulder to say, "See? You've really got me _falling_ for you!"

Clicking his teeth, Papyrus lengthened his strides as the skeleton's home came into view. "I AM BEGINNING TO HAVE SOME DOUBTS ABOUT THIS BUDDING RELATIONSHIP."

Somehow, hearing that actually helped Mabel feel better about going on the date. Realizing that Papyrus wasn't so much deeply in love with as, well, a little lonely, she gave his ribcage a playful nudge with her knuckles. "Okay. But let's have a date before we break up."

"OF COURSE! HOW COULD I DENY SUCH ARDENT FEELINGS?"

Behind them, Dipper trudged, dragging his limbs because all the physical exertion required to survive Papyrus' spar had left his legs feeling loose and wobbly. His body also felt strangely light now that the blue magic was no longer weighing him down, like he was going to float away if he didn't stay focused on putting one foot in front of the other. "Hey, Papyrus," he huffed. "What you were saying before about the king, do you think you could tell us more about him?"

"OH! KING ASGORE? HE'S A GIANT PUSHOVER. I'M SURE HE'LL HELP YOU LEAVE THE BARRIER ONCE YOU GET TO THE CAPITOL."

"And that's it?" Dipper stopped walking. "Are you sure?"

Humming to himself an offbeat tune, Papyrus rolled the question over. "PRETTY SURE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER FORGETS THE THINGS HE'S FORGOTTEN."

To Dipper's utter mortification, Papyrus noticed he was no longer keeping up and doubled back to scoop him up, too, deftly tucking him under his free arm. Despite being in the exact same situation herself, Mabel tilted her head to the side and snickered behind a hand. "You've got to be the grumpiest sack of potatoes ever, Dip." The look he shot her was so aggrieved, the frown that pulled at the corners of his mouth so pronounced, that it looked dangerously close to falling right off his face.

For some reason, seeing it made her want to laugh, sing, dance, and twirl around in circles until the world started to spin and she had to sit down. And some of that must have shown because the frown gradually faded, shifting into a small, uncertain smile. While Papyrus was busy attempting to open the wreathed door to his home with his arms full of small humans, Mabel made a grab for Dipper's hand. He didn't pull away, just looked confused for a moment, before accepting that his hand had been captured with an accepting shrug.

The door swung open after Papyrus decided to try turning the knob with his boot, a blast of warm air came rushing out, and then they were inside the skeleton's humble abode. Papyrus set them down on the carpet with the plum purple and greenish-blue zigzags, giving them free rein.

There was a scarlet-covered quantum physics book on a round side table that immediately drew Dipper's attention, while Mabel examined the tower of sticky notes. The subject of each seemed to be the pair of dirty socks lying on the floor. After reading through each of the notes, and then, after stopping shortly to give the rock covered in sprinkles a quick pet, Mabel said, "Papyrus, I have a great idea for our date!"

He was still standing by the door. "WOWIE. AND HERE I THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE TO COME UP WITH SOMETHING FOR US TO DO." He followed her gaze, suddenly wary. "THIS 'IDEA' DOES NOT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH SOCKS, DOES IT?"

"Unless you'd like to keep this stack of sticky pads around as a conversation piece, yes. Yes, it does." She gathered up the socks up in her arms, then turned to see Dipper still flipping through the quantum physics book, mumbling something about infinitely smaller joke books. "Hey, bro bro, I'm gonna go up and start my date with Papyrus. Want to join in, get in on a slice of all the fun we'll be having?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to explore a little more." He gave a distracted wave of his hand before finally closing the book with an air of defeat. "Have a good time."

"Oh. Okay." It was fine. Dipper didn't like arts and crafts, anyway. And he was… he seemed to be doing okay. If he'd asked to explore immediately after the explosion in the library, nothing would have convinced her to let him out of her sight, but they'd sparred with Papyrus, and things had turned out okay. Maybe some time to himself would be good for him.

Nodding quickly in an attempt to hide her initial hesitation, Mabel agreed to meet up with him later, and then followed Papyrus up the stairs, where she immediately took notice of the heatless flames billowing out from under the door farther down the balcony.

Papyrus caught her gawking at them. "MY BROTHER LIKES TO EXPERIMENT. I DO NOT OFTEN GO INTO HIS ROOM, SO I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT HE MIGHT BE DOING IN THERE, BUT I CAN TELL YOU WHAT HE'S MOST DEFINITELY NOT DOING." Mabel waited for him to finish, expecting another tirade about how Sans wasn't putting enough effort into, well, anything. "NAPPING!" Though his hand was poised to at the doorknob, the concern evident in the nervous shifting of his sockets suggested that what he really wanted to do was enter the room across the hall. "THAT FOOLISH BROTHER OF MINE HARDLY EVER DOES ANYTHING, YET, SOMEHOW, HIS MAGIC WAS SIGNIFICANTLY DEPLETED BY THE TIME WE RETURNED TO SNOWDIN…" The memory of that discovery alone still upset him. "THAT SORT OF DRAIN ON A MONSTER'S MAGIC RESERVES DOESN'T HAPPEN BY ACCIDENT, BUT HE DOESN'T WANT TO TALK TO ME ABOUT IT."

Downstairs, the front door slammed closed. Mabel leaned against the skeleton, finding him unexpectedly comfortable even after having already been ferried around by him once or twice.

"Our crazy brothers sure are a lot of work, aren't they?"

"THAT'S WHY THEY'RE SO LUCKY TO HAVE SIBLINGS LIKE US." He cackled. "WHO ELSE COULD POSSIBLY PUT UP WITH THEIR SHENANIGANS THE WAY WE DO?"


	13. Hairline Fractures

A/N:

Phew: I'm glad you liked it!

ArtofthePlate: I am familiar with zarla's work, actually. Their comics are very cute and heart wrenching, but I didn't realize until you mentioned it that that's where the 'Scolding Gasterblasters' scene probably originated from. Unfortunately, Dipper hasn't actually gotten better. He's struggling, and sometimes, he' thinks he's winning, but that's not the same. Overall, his situation is exactly the same as it was at the start.

Guest: Everyone was so worried about Papyrus! I really liked the way you summed up the burgeoning friendship between Sans and Mabel. They're definitely weary of each other, but Sans can't help being drawn to someone with such a healthy appreciation for bad puns.

* * *

Despite what he'd said, Dipper could be found relaxing on the front steps, poking idly at the ground with the stick he'd decided to hold on to, which was almost like a souvenir at this point. None of the other kids at school could say they'd played fetch with a talking skeleton.

The flaking bark was rough under his palms as he idly doodled an outline of a pair of horns he'd noticed on the first monster that'd captured his attention.

Lunch hour must have ended sometime during Papyrus' training session, because most of the monsters who'd headed indoors to eat or talk were wandering around outside once more, which meant the scene before him was nearly identical to the one he'd walked through when he'd jogged over to the library earlier that day. Or was it earlier that night? There was no way to tell without a clock or a sun hanging overhead to use as reference.

Even with the occupants of the town milling about, Snowdin gave off the impression of being unbearably small. From where he sat, he could spot the library, the restaurant, the inn, and even the welcome sign.

Now that he knew there wasn't only a cavern ceiling, but also a barrier shutting them in, Dipper couldn't help but feel a little like he was sitting in the middle of a transparent and enclosed box. Without moving, he could see every corner, could run his hands along every flawless side.

There weren't any secrets in Snowdin.

There were only monsters who'd been trapped in a gilded prison so long they'd forgotten what it was like to want to be anywhere else.

A machine gun burst of unmistakably boisterous laughter emanated from the cozy cottage at his back, and Dipper tossed an irritated glare at the sound, then forced himself to relax.

If he'd wanted to chill inside, he could have stayed. No one asked him to leave, so it wasn't fair to get irritated just because it sounded like the others were having a good time without him. He could even go back inside if he wanted to. There was literally nothing stopping him…

Except that would've defeated the whole purpose of taking a break.

What he really needed was some time to catch his breath and think without feeling a watchful gaze on his back. He'd earned that much, hadn't he?

With an exhausted groan, he dragged a palm down the front of his face. It was hard to remember sometimes that he'd wanted to be watched, appreciated it, even.

And despite a frequent need to remind himself of the fact, he still did.

But keeping Mabel on task and on track was like trying to keep a leash on the wind, and since they'd have to keep moving soon, especially now that they knew there wasn't anything in Snowdin that could help, it would ultimately benefit them both if he gave her some time to let loose and be herself. There was no telling how long it'd be before she got the chance again, and he didn't want his own problems to rear up at an inopportune time and ruin this for her.

He could survive on his own long enough for her and Papyrus to have their play date. It wasn't like he needed to have a babysitter following him around 24/7.

Or a warden.

The stick creaked, nearly snapping at the pressure of his grip. It was because he was constantly thinking negative thoughts like that, that he was sure his presence upstairs would only ruin things. There was no way could she have a good time, hang out, and simultaneously monitor the smoking fuse trailing from his back.

He'd finally done something right, hadn't he? So why did he still feel like his presence alone could kill a butterfly? Why did it feel like being happy and being with him couldn't possibly overlap?

It wasn't that he'd never felt this way before, because attending birthday parties wouldn't have made him half as miserable if he hadn't constantly been so sure that he was going to mess up and embarrass himself somehow, but it wasn't usually this strong. It wasn't a doubt or a concern or a possibility. It was an ironclad and undeniable result of what would happen if he marched back into Papyrus' house, burst into his room, and announced that, after a sudden and abrupt change of heart, he wanted to date the skeleton, too.

...Well, not _date_ date him, but date in the same sense Mabel was hopefully dating him and hang out.

Closing his eyes, he pressed the back of his head against the solid wood door behind him, listening for any other sounds of revelry coming from the inside. The wreath tickled the back of his neck. The air was saturated with the pungent smell of pine, and a sneeze escaped him.

It was relatively quiet now. No shouts or giggles or rustles or stomping booted steps.

What exactly were they doing in there?

After scratching agitatedly at a bit of exposed hair peeking out from under his cap, he tucked the stick under his arm, then pushed off his knees to stand, thinking that maybe a distraction would do him some good. There was a path not too far from the library that seemed to open up to more houses, but that didn't mean it wasn't worth checking out.

There was something else, too. Something that'd been nagging at him ever since he'd first spotted Mabel in the library...

Why wasn't she wearing the scarf Toriel had made for her? She'd been ecstatic to wear it, and still held on to the old cellphone they'd received like it was a protective talisman – there was no way she'd purposefully abandon it.

Had she forgotten it?

He'd left a note at the inn before leaving to keep her from worrying, but maybe she'd rushed out, anyway. In which case, it was probably still there.

And since he was supposed to be exploring, anyway, there wasn't any reason not to pass by the inn at some point to ask the Innkeeper whether she'd noticed any stray articles of clothing lying around.

Brushing off his shorts, he muttered, "Not like I'm busy, right?"

* * *

After entering Papyrus' bedroom, and pointedly ignoring the 'NO GIRLS ALLOWED!' label penned over a stretch of yellow caution tape, which the nervous skeleton had valiantly attempted to obscure with his body, Papyrus had regaled her, his captive audience, with the backstory of each and every one of his action figures, including his favorite: a plastic but apparently realistic likeness of a robot named Mettaton.

While clutching the figure to his chest, Papyrus had confessed to being a huge fan, and while Mabel struggled to understand the appeal of a checkerboard on wheels, it was easy enough to get caught up in his enthusiasm.

Once the initial tour had ended, the date finally commenced, and Papyrus had slid into his closet to change out of his battle body and into a pair of sneakers with knee-high socks, a t-shirt that read Cool Dude across the front, two shoulder pads that may or may not have been basketballs in a previous life, a pair of long sports shorts, and a lime green baseball cap, which he wore backwards.

It was like he was desperately trying to emulate the style of a skater or a street baller, but without the benefit of having ever actually seen either of those in person. The result was an outfit constructed out of a foundation consisting of 16% hearsay and 110% imagination.

In other words, it was absolute perfection.

Not one to be outdone, Mabel ripped off her green sweater with a shriek of unrestrained delight, revealing the crimson heart sewn over her chest with gusto.

Papyrus clapped his hands over his cheekbones in shock. "THIS… HUMAN, ALL THIS TIME… YOU'VE WANTED TO DATE ME, HAVEN'T YOU?"

Brows shaped into a coquettish arch, she leaned in close, "Yes. And now that we're alone…" Beads of sweat appeared on the crown of Papyrus' skull. He was not ready for this sort of commitment! "I can confidently say that there's only one thing on my mind…"

* * *

So, the brief trek around Snowdin turned out to be a bust.

The Innkeeper didn't remember seeing Mabel leave the house with a second scarf sitting on her shoulders, and the room itself was cleared out, the beds already washed and made in preparation for whoever rented the room next.

At least the Innkeeper's child seemed pleased to see him. They trailed after him as he climbed up and down the stairs and even ducked under the bed while he was bending down to check to see if maybe the scarf had been kicked or nudged underneath somehow.

Between the two of them, they found 3G, a leaf, and a candy wrapper.

As thanks for their help, Dipper plopped the 3G into their paw, refusing to take it back despite the child's squeaks of protest. "I'm telling you it's okay, little. Keep it. That's enough to buy a candy wrapper that comes with the candy, right?" He tried for a reassuring smile.

It didn't work. If anything, the little lapine monster only looked more miserable.

Just when Dipper was about to relent and offer to take the money back, the child rose onto their toes to cup a paw over his ear and whisper, "It's only enough for one, though."

Smiling for real this time, Dipper clasped both of their plushy paws in his hands. "Next time, they'll be enough for all three of us."

The child brightened, then darted off to visit their aunt, who always kept some monster candy hidden under the counter.

Since the rabbit child had left and Mabel's scarf was nowhere to be found, Dipper decided it was time for him to head out, but not before glancing back one last time at the healthy green leaf lying tangled in the carpet's fibers.

Where had it come from? It could've been dragged in off of someone's boot or blown in through an open window but, with the exception of the rows of coniferous pines framing the traveled roads and clearings, most of the surrounding flora in Snowdin was deciduous, bearing either dry, dead leaves or none at all. There had to be something he was missing, something right under his nose, but there were more important things to worry about, so he filed away the observation to be examined further at another time. Unless he wound up forgetting about it, in which case, it probably wasn't that important, anyway.

Once he'd waved finished waving goodbye to the Innkeeper and her child on the way out, he headed in the direction of the path that followed the river, and soon found himself staring at a large lupine monster. Its arms were thick as logs as it plucked huge blocks of ice off a conveyor belt and chucked it off a nearby ledge, resulting in the ice blocks landing with a splash into the already frigid water below.

"Hey!" Dipper called out to him, hands cupped around his mouth to be heard over the machine. "Why are you tossing ice into the water?" The wolf glanced in his direction, but said nothing. Throwing ice was taking up most of his concentration.

"It's already pretty cold, so I doubt you're trying to cool down the river here." The wolf gave a dismissive huff. Dipper shrugged. "Okay. Maybe that's kind of obvious, but then what are you trying to cool down? Can you at least tell me that?"

Other than another cursory glance in his direction, Dipper received no response. After all that walking around, he was still no closer to learning anything significant about the Underground or his own problem. Biting down on a frustrated scream, he left the wolf to continue wasting his time throwing ice into a freezing river, and stomped back in the direction of the skeleton brothers' home.

Immediately after reaching the side of the house, a white pellet the size of a fingernail smacked him upside the head. He instinctively slapped a hand over the stinging patch of skin, one of his eyelids pressing shut in a wince of pain, though annoyance overshadowed that particular sensation quickly.

He had not decided to finally come back after a long and unproductive walk just to be the victim of an unprovoked attack.

"Who's there?" There was no movement in the bushes, no rustle to suggest that he was doing anything other than talking to himself. "You wanted my attention, right? Well, you've got it." He gritted his teeth as the silence continued, unbroken.

Then he noticed a series of deep scores carved into the ground.

At first glance, they bore a marked resemblance to snake trails, but a coldblooded reptile wouldn't survive long in Snowdin, and the pattern suggested that whatever made the tracks had moved forward, then slithered back the same way it'd come.

They wrapped around to the back of the house, practically beckoning him to follow, but hesitation stalled his feet. The situation felt entirely too suspicious. Here he was, searching for something to occupy his time, and a few mysterious tracks pop up out of nowhere? Life was never that convenient.

The smart thing to do would have been to wait for back up, and he nearly did, but then he realized that this was his chance to discover something new, to finally solve a mystery.

It'd be nice to gain some significant insight about their environment first for a change...

Smoothing out his features into something neutral and unassuming, not that anyone was likely to pay him much attention, considering how engrossed they seemed to be with their own daily routines, Dipper followed the trail around the corner, only to find that they came to an abrupt stop in front of a door with a polished and gleaming metallic surface.

Beyond being difficult to spot from the main path, there didn't appear to be any sort of extraordinary effort to conceal the door, which could have meant that the goal was to keep it out of sight and out of mind, not hidden. People were naturally attracted to places they weren't supposed to be, but very few would find their curiosity peaked by a featureless and ordinary back door.

Still, Dipper was confident that the strange tracks led to this door for a reason, so he hooked his hand around the handle and yanked, then winced at the resistance that ran up and jarred his arm. Grunting, he tried yanking with two hands, but still didn't feel any give.

It was locked.

The lock wasn't ancient, it still retained some of its shine despite the elements, but there were scuff and scratch marks around the edges of the keyhole that suggested it'd been used often, though not always by the steadiest hand.

Staring at the door thoughtfully, Dipper grabbed his hat by the brim and pulled it off to the side.

There was a Boy Scout lock picking tool in his possession, but since he'd never planned on bringing it to school – unless he forgot the combination on his locker again - it was tucked safely away in the back of his sock drawer, where no potential lock picking tool thief would think to look.

Without it, though, there wasn't much he could do to gain access. Maybe if he had a wax mold of the key, or a paper clip, or a hairpin…

Oh.

* * *

"I MUST ADMIT THAT I HAD NO IDEA YOU FELT THIS DEEPLY FOR ME!" Shifting his knobby knees on the twin sized bed, Papyrus made a show of twisting to avert his gaze from what he imagined to be a hopelessly lovelorn human. "BUT I AM AFRAID I CANNOT RETURN YOUR ARDENT FEELINGS.

"I understand." Mabel replied, her tone sincere and earnest despite the hands clutching at her stomach to suppress any wayward giggles that might want to eek out and ruin the heavy atmosphere. "But perhaps we could part ways with a goodbye kiss?"

Though thoroughly aggrieved at the notion of saying goodbye, Papyrus nonetheless leaned forward and, "OM NOM NOM. KISSING SOUNDS," passionately mashed his sock puppet's mouth against Mabel's hand.

It was the breaking point.

Scooting backwards, Mabel collapsed onto the comforter, kicking and flailing as every suppressed giggle rushed to escape, leaving her breathless. "That's not how it works!" She gasped. "You're not supposed say the sounds out loud."

With the sock puppet they'd decorated with some of the leftover red fabric from his costume mirroring the expression, Papyrus manipulated his jawbone into a pout.

Shortly before, they'd drawn on black sockets and a nasal cavity with black markers, then added lines around the mouth to represent teeth. It wasn't much, but it was the best Mabel could do while pressed for time, and Papyrus seemed happy enough to have a sock twin.

As for her own puppet, there was a crimson heart colored over the puppet's 'torso' to represent her sweater, and a scarlet headband made from the same cloth as Papyrus' scarf glued to the sock's crown. After a few strokes of color from a brown marker, Sock!Mabel had a passable head of hair. Passible. Not perfect.

Passible.

Even if Papyrus seemed to love them, the perfectionist in her couldn't help but stare at the rushed crafts and cry a little.

Once ready to speak again, Mabel reached out, gripping Papyrus' skeletal hand with a reassuring squeeze. "I know what I said about parting ways and all, but that was just added drama for the scene. If you really don't want to date anymore, that's okay. I'd be so happy - and really, really lucky – to keep being your super cool friend."

Clasping a gloved hand to his chest, Papyrus let out a shocked gasp, then sniffled, wiping away a glistening tear that threatened to trail down his cheekbone. "THERE IS NOTHING I WOULD LIKE BETTER, TINY HUMAN."

And Mabel gave a relaxed smile, having never felt this relieved to be dumped before, though she also wondered if maybe she should stub her toe or something, get a little wetness going so it didn't seem like she was completely unaffected by the rejection, however gentle it'd turned out to be.

But Papyrus was already plugging away at her phone, humming quietly to himself some bouncy tune. Either he'd already forgotten the date or was willing to pretend it'd never happened, which was a shame, because she wasn't going to forget. Not ever. It'd been a while since she'd found someone willing to play sock puppets with her, and she couldn't wait to tell her parents all about the insanely fun date she'd had with a skeleton once they got back to the surface.

And even if the romance had been briefer than an ice cube in the desert, Papyrus had technically been her boyfriend for at least fifteen minutes, which meant she could add him to the scrapbook she was keeping of all her other successfully failed relationships.

One thing was certain: There'd have to be an entire page drawn out and dedicated to the Great Papyrus. It would have sparkles and glitter and neon signs that blinked, glow-in-the-dark stickers, and tomato scented scratch and sniffs. By the time she was through, the page would be seen far and wide as a magnificent work of art!

Papyrus looked up to catch Mabel chuckling creepily to herself, and subtly scooted away.

It was while they contemplating the next heart-wrenching scene to enact with their puppet actors that Dipper barged into the room, wild eyed and flushed. "Hey, Mabel, you got a minute? I could really use your help with something." Considering he'd left his sister alone with Papyrus for more than five minutes and nothing was on fire or bedazzled, he was calling sitting cross-legged on a racecar bed with mini sock versions of themselves to be a 6 out of a possible 10 on the Weird Things To Walk In On scale.

"Sure thing!" Mabel chirped, peeling off her puppet before leaping off the bed. She glanced back at Papyrus, who was already pulling the tube sock onto his other hand. "I'm gonna go help Dipper with a thing for a sec, okay?"

Since Papyrus assured her that he didn't mind, and even used the puppets to wave her off, Mabel added quickly before Dipper could get too impatient and drag her out, "If – When the barrier falls, come over to our house and hang out, okay? I'll even convince our parents to let you come over and babysit sometimes."

The time where she'd imagined him as a little kid in an adult's body had long passed. After he'd gone out of his way to protect her and her brother, to keep them safe and warm and teach them how to fight, there was no mistaking him for anything less than someone who was already well on their way to becoming the best babysitter ever.

"WOWIE! I'VE NEVER SAT ON BABIES BEFORE!"

On the other hand, there was always room for improvement.

Before either of the twins had recovered enough from the initial shock of the statement to correct him, he winked, chortling merrily to let them know that they'd each been successfully bamboozled by the unmatched wits of the Great Papyrus.

"Aren't you cold?"

They were outside the house and turning the corner when Mabel realized that, as curious she was about whatever it was Dipper wanted to show her, it bothered her that he'd been walking around with any sort of extra layers to keep him warm. Even all bundled up as she was, some of the chill still managed to seep through, yet Dipper barely seemed to register that the temperature outside the house was any different from the temperature inside. "I think I forgot my other sweater upstairs, but I can run up and get it real quick."

Dipper shook his head, distracted as he searched the ground for the trail he'd seen earlier. "Thanks but no thanks. I'm not wearing a girl's sweater. I'd much rather freeze."

"It's unisex." She pouted. "What are you looking for, anyway?"

He stopped scanning the ground, giving up on finding any trace of the trail. Whatever had gone through the trouble of erasing it had done a very thorough job of it. "Nothing important." Gesturing for her to follow, he curved around the back of the house to stand in front of the steel door he'd discovered earlier. "The reason I brought you down here is because I need to borrow one of your pins to open this door."

"Oh." Frowning, she asked why he didn't just ask to borrow a pin while they were still upstairs. Why drag her all the way outside if a pin was all he needed?

"I…" He paused, pondering that. "Huh."

Rolling her eyes, she untangled a slender hairpin from her bangs, then promptly passed it to Dipper, who eagerly snatched it up and jammed it into the lock, tinkering away experimentally as Mabel continued to watch, suddenly weary of where this new endeavor was heading. "Now, I'm just throwing this out there, so correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't breaking into a house we've already been invited to kind of bad juju?"

"There's answers in here, Mabel. There has to be. I'm sure of it." He was driven, focused, and desperate, with an almost feverish gleam in his eyes.

It scared her.

"You don't have to know everything, bro bro," she said slowly. Not every locked door needed to be opened, not every mystery needed to be solved.

He scoffed, redoubling his efforts. It was easy for her to say that, he thought furiously. There was nothing wrong with her. No voices in her head. "That sounds a lot like something Sans would say, but, hey, you two are buddies now, right?"

Frustration boiling over, she stamped her foot and shouted, "Why are you acting like this?!"

"Don't you get it by now?" Dipper shouted back at her, feeling vindicated when she flinched. "I. Don't. Know!"

 _Click._

Uttering a soft sound of disbelief, Dipper turned around to give the door a hard shove. It swung open, revealing a sterile room with tiles that didn't contain a speck of grime in their molding. Once inside, the twin's wrinkled their noses at the strong scent of antiseptic saturating the air.

A hastily scrawled out note taped to a white board drew their attention. It was propped against a lumpy, indistinct shape, its features concealed by the sheet thrown over it. Dipper ripped the note off, reading it aloud while Mabel crowded in for a closer look.

 **not cool**

"He knows we're here." Mabel pointed out, certain that Dipper had already leapt to the same conclusion. "Shouldn't we abort mission?"

"Maybe he doesn't. Maybe that note's just there to freak out whoever breaks in." It sounded about as convincing as he did. "In any case, we're here, so we might as well look around." He grabbed a set of blueprints sitting on the shelf, stretching them out over his knee so as to better examine the symbols. The handwriting was sloppy, haphazard, and though some of the symbols overlapped with what he knew of the wingding font, the little that could be deciphered made no sense.

With a contemptuous click of his tongue, Dipper tossed them aside, forgetting them as soon as they'd left his hands.

It was only after he'd thrown the blueprints back onto the shelf that he noticed Mabel was still staring at the board.

Leaning forward and squinting, she asked, "What do you think it means?"

Gears churning, Dipper strode over to examine the lines and labels, confused as to why a lab would contain a board covered with rough postulations about what appeared to be parallel dimensions. It was basically the stuff of science fiction, but since he'd spend an entire weekend combing the web for verified reports of lycanthropy and vampirism, that particular thought went unspoken.

"It looks like it's about alternate universes." He followed the lines with an extended index finger. "The Tangent Universe branches off from the main one at point A, but loops back at point C." Scratching his chin, he added, "The abbreviation at the top probably stands for Divergence Point, so that's where the split is."

"And this," Mabel gestured to the diagonal arrow, "is where the two universes join back up, right?"

"Yeah, but the question mark probably means that's just a theory. Actually," he admitted, "this concept may be pretty advanced, but none of it's proven. Whatever it is he's working on in here, I don't think it has anything to do with us."

He turned away, heading towards the row of drawers under the shelf. Most of them were empty, but some contained notebooks and journals with calculations that were too advanced to make any sense of.

It was after he'd finished riffling through his third drawer that Mabel decided to check one herself. Though she hadn't actually expected to find anything, what lay at the bottom of the drawer forced her to stifle a gasp. "Dipper! Come look at this." He dropped what he was doing to see what she'd found.

It was a picture of Sans and Papyrus and even Toriel, along with a few other monsters they didn't recognize, and standing in front, wearing the exact same sweater they'd spotted them in before, was the little kid from the mountain.

They looked happy.

But how did the picture even exist? Had the kid fallen in before? The only other possibility was that the picture was taken on the surface, except the barrier trapping the monsters hadn't come down once in all the centuries it'd been active.

Mabel thought back to how attentive Sans had been when she'd mentioned the kid they'd stopped from falling, how relieved he'd seemed when she'd said they were okay. Somehow, even though it should have been impossible, Sans must have known them, and cared about them still, even though no one else seemed to remember ever meeting a human before.

Had they... made a mistake? Should they have let the kid fall?

But they couldn't have let a little kid fall down on their own! What if they'd gotten hurt? What if someone had tried to hurt them? Her and Dipper were older, wiser, and they had each other, so they'd be okay, eventually. Probably.

And if they hadn't interfered, the quiet, mousy kid with their sleepy eyes and their mop of straight brown hair, they would have been all alone.

"It could be a trick." Dipper muttered. "Something to trip us up."

"or it could just be none of your business." It came from the doorway, and the twins spun sharply to see Sans standing behind them, back in his hoodie but looking less like his usual self, and more like the weary, somewhat threatening sentry they'd run into outside the Ruins. Except the disappointment brimming underneath the surface, the harsh shadows settling into the edges of an empty grin, they were all personal now.

Cheeks burning, Mabel impulsively tried shoving the photo back into the drawer. The frame shifted, catching on the ceiling so it was jutting out when the drawer slammed shut, rattling the glass. "woah, hey, careful with that." Sans nudged her aside, pushing her gently out of the way with the pack of his hand, then carefully retrieved the frame to set it back in its proper place. "some monsters like to have their things treated with respect."

It came out a little flat, considering they'd seen his socks lying abandoned on the living room carpet, but Sans didn't seem to be in the mood to have that pointed out.

As it was, the twins flinched at the not-so-subtle reprimand, almost wishing he'd skip to the part where he yelled at them so they could get that over with, apologize, and then move on. Instead, they were carrying the weight of a shame that thrived in the quiet.

Turning to Dipper, he continued, "so, I guess breaking into my lab was your idea?" There was a pause, neither of the twins could think of what to say. But they didn't have to respond, because Sans had already decided their answers for them. "you're just chock full of good ideas today, aren't you?"

Even knowing the skeleton had every right to be upset – they'd essentially broken into his home after having already been invited in as guests - Dipper reacted instinctively to the accusatory tone, interpreting it as a verbal attack. The intensity of the scrutiny he was under made him feel small and exposed, like a snake wriggling under a magnifying glass as its outer skin was forcibly peeled away. He tensed, scared and defensive and too stubborn to admit it. "The door was already open when we walked in."

Unimpressed, Sans replied, "nice try, pal. the only way to unlock that door is with a key I keep in my room, which also happens to be locked. i suppose i should probably thank you for not breaking into there, too."

A rumbling emanated from the twin's stomachs, breaking the tension, and they flushed, heat rushing to their faces. Sans shifted on his feet, looking contemplative, before finally lifting his hands, palms out, and sighing, "alright, guess that's enough lecturing for now. not really my style, anyway." He headed towards the exit, gesturing for them to follow. "come on, we're heading to grillby's. your treat."

"We're really sorry, Sans," Mabel ducked her head on the way out of the lab, feeling miserable as the door was shut and locked behind her. Outside of the glaring light, it was easier to see the discoloration and scuff marks under Sans' sockets, supporting Papyrus' earlier assertion that he hadn't been sleeping, and it was doubtful that catching two kids snooping around his things had helped at all on the relaxation front. But she'd been counting on him to save the day if things got too out of control, because he seemed strong and calm and had done it once already, but it was harder to believe in that when he and Dipper were sporting matching raccoon masks. "We didn't mean to upset you. We were just looking for something that could help..." She looked to Dipper, pleading, but he shook his head, so she finished, "We thought there might be something in there that would help us get home."

"like what? a car? no, you didn't mean to upset me. you also didn't mean to be caught."

"You're wasting your time with him, Mabel." Scowling, Dipper quickened his strides in order to outpace them, hunching as he shoved his hands into his pockets. They were all heading towards the same place, and Snowdin was a straight line, so closing himself off through body language was the best way for him to convey that he didn't want to be talked to or talked down or cheered up or reasoned with, which was fine, because Mabel was getting tired of trying. But that didn't mean her eyes didn't follow him, her stomach twisting into knots until the first whiff of grease and fries in the air stoked her appetite. Besides Nice Cream and a slice of pie, there hadn't been many opportunities as of late to devour a quick and satisfying meal.

Once sure Dipper was well out of earshot, she tried again, "Listen, I know we messed up, and I know my brother hasn't exactly been the most pleasant person to be around lately, but that doesn't mean the both of us aren't really extremely sorry. Just tell me what I have to do to make this better and I will."

Keeping his gaze similarly pinned to the boy's back as they strode past the library and the remnants of the snowman Dipper had constructed, which Sans couldn't help but raise a bemused brow at, he scratched his skull, saying, "you don't have to keep apologizing to me, kid. i know you're only human."

It didn't sound like forgiveness.


	14. Force of Motion

Hot air pressed through the sliver-sized crack in Grillby's entrance as though they'd cracked open an oven, more than enough to banish any lingering chill left behind by Snowdin's namesake weather. Sans opened it further, and Dipper nearly darted inside before catching sight of the canine monsters from the Royal Guard playing cards and drinking at a nearby table. Doggo's eyes were unfocused as he stared off into the distance, a charred and smoking dog treat protruding from his snout.

One of the cloaked dogs who'd mistaken Mabel for a puppy sniffed the air, a low snarl ripping from their muzzle as they snapped at the scent.

"What is this?" Dipper asked, a scowl doing nothing to mask the apprehension in his voice as he absorbed the sight of a Venus flytrap with sickly yellow petals and fangs the size of his arm. "Is this some kind of trick?"

With a slow shake of his head, Sans herded the kids inside by letting the door fall shut and shuffling forward, never quite touching them as they edged forward to prevent him from bumping against their backs. He nodded to his fellow sentries as he passed their table, then found a seat at the counter. "you're here with me, remember?" He reminded them as the twins tentatively edged towards the bar. "these guys aren't gonna to lay a paw on ya."

Greater Dog woofed lightly and panted, clearly happy to see the children who'd played fetch with him, as evidenced by the rapid wagging of his tail. Mabel paused at the Canine Unit's table, then gave him a quick scratch under the chin. Greater Dog thumped his leg with ecstasy, pleased to be petted after spending so much time with his fellow guardsmen, who each found the act to be both unpleasant and indecent. Mabel huffed a quiet, subdued laugh. "Thanks for letting us go before. We'll play more later, okay?"

It was spoken like a whisper, though that did little to deter the keen hearing of the other canines, and though she pulled away afterwards, Greater Dog nipped at her sleeve. Confused, Mabel glanced down at the captured sleeve, then fixed Greater Dog with a questioning look. At the counter, Sans and Dipper were getting settled on their stools. Mabel could hear Sans requesting that Grillby retrieve another stool from the back, since they very well couldn't have their benefactor standing during their meal.

Adjusting the straps of her backpack, Mabel sighed. It was starting to feel like Sans had only given her the gold so she could pay for his meal. She wasn't going to complain about it, since she had been caught snooping through his things, even though it hadn't exactly been her idea.

"He's worried about you, pup," growled a feminine sounding voice from one of the hooded canines.

It was vaguely familiar, but try as she might, Mabel couldn't place it, and since the speaker said nothing further, choosing instead to take a deep pull from the caramel colored liquid in her mug, Mabel kept her attention on Greater Dog when she replied, "He shouldn't be." A quick wink. "I'm tougher than I look."

Since Sans and Dipper were waiting and Grillby, the humanoid flame in the white dress shirt, black vest, and bowtie, had come out of the back with a wooden stool that surprisingly didn't burn in his hands, Mabel swallowed the sour taste of regret as she cut the interaction short by pulling once more at her sleeve.

Though visibly dissatisfied with her answer, Greater Dog let it go. She waved, started to walk away, froze when a sad whimper followed her back, then steeled herself against it, forcing herself to keep moving until she was standing behind the stool, catching the tail end of Dipper's question about the bartender, which at least meant that he was still speaking to them.

"…but he's made of fire. How can he carry around a chair made of wood or wear clothes without burning them up?"

Curious, she clambered onto her seat, watching with fascination as Grillby resumed his position behind the bar, patiently waiting for their order. Beside her sat two bird monsters, one had pale feathers that diminished to stubs around his beak like a five o'clock shadow and the other was smaller, with feathers the color of red wine. They must have frequented Grillby's often, because their bodies seemed to have grown around their seats, as though the stool were some sort of fifth limb. Their lids fluttered at the change to their surroundings, but the arrivals of new customers wasn't an event quite earthshattering enough to shake them from the stupor.

Mabel quickly lost interest in them, tuning into the conversation happening on the other side of her instead. "grillby's not your regular monster," Sans was saying, though he didn't seem entirely comfortable with talking about the man while he was listening. Whipping out a pen, Dipper grabbed a napkin and started writing. "he's what's called an elemental. unlike most monsters, elementals aren't born. they're summoned by a mage, usually in a form that's already reached full maturity." He paused, continuing only after Grillby gave a subtle nod. "with that said, they're still technically newborns, and flame elementals especially tend to have a difficult time controlling their magic. grillby here's got a good handle on it, but…"

 _"It requires a significant amount of concentration, which does not always come with ease, but I have been tending this bar for many years now, and have grown quite accustomed to employing a certain amount of self-control during my daily activities."_

Leaning against the counter, Sans commented with an easy jerk of his thumb, "yep. this guy's a hothead, but only in the literal sense."

There was light crackle, like the crinkling of paper, as Grillby appeared to chuckle. _"Oh? Is that what you think, Sans? I imagine you'd be surprised."_

Noticing the change in tone, Dipper looked up from his notes to see that the skeleton looked a little like he'd accidentally tasted one of his slippers. An amused smirk crossed his face. It was kind of nice to know that not even Sans was infallible to the sudden pitfalls of social interaction.

The red bird expressed his surprise that Grillby was even capable of speech, to which the bartender responded with the slightest flush of his flames that he hadn't known how to politely broach the subject. In all honestly, though, the short break from speaking had been a welcome one, and he was thankful for the red bird's efforts as his translator.

The bird monster shrugged. "It wasn't a problem. I never really knew what you were saying, anyway."

Another amused crackle greeted the statement. _"Yes, I did get that impression from time to time."_

Once Grillby was finished speaking to his former translator, Sans ordered two hot chocolates for his human companions and then offered them the choice of burgers or fries. Dipper's stomach growled. "I could go for a burger. How 'bout you Mabel?"

When an extended silence was all he received in response, he leaned backwards, peering past Sans' back to see Mabel tracing circles in the wood grain. "Mabel!" She jolted, glancing up to see two sets of concerned gazes. "What's up with you?"

She shifted in her seat, disconcerted. "Nothing's with me. I'm warm and," a hot chocolate was placed in front of her," about to be fed. Couldn't be better." Aware that her half-hearted assurances weren't the least bit convincing, she quickly brought the mug to her mouth and took a sip. The drink was sweet on her tongue, heated to the perfect temperature so it warmed without burning.

"We'll take burgers," Dipper said. When Grillby headed off to the kitchen to cook off a few patties, he ducked his head so Mabel couldn't see him, glowering at the skeleton as he whispered, "What did you say to her?" He'd walked ahead shortly after they'd left the house, purposely shutting them out, but he'd assumed then that most of Sans' ire would be directed towards him. "She wasn't like this before."

Doubt settled in Sans as the girl beside him continued to drink quietly. He should have known better than to tell the girl she was only human when she was already well aware of the animosity most monsters bore humanity.

Usually, entering his lab was a privilege. It required his permission, and his permission wasn't easy to get. With the way things were going, these kids would have never seen the inside of his lab if they hadn't ignored the rules and broken in. But now that the initial kneejerk reaction was beginning to ebb, he found he was regretting losing his cool. They were ignoring rules they didn't know existed, and while he was justified in feeling some outrage, he couldn't fault them for that.

Treating them the way he would Frisk wasn't doing him any favors, it was only alienating them. And while a claim of self-defense was a joke when you wielded the power of a god, it wasn't fair to expect two newly fallen children to know anything about that.

A little disappointed with himself, he turned his head to observe Mabel as she folded her arms on the counter and rested her head. "you wanna tell me what's wrong, kid?"

She tilted her head to look up at him. "I thought maybe you didn't want to talk to me anymore."

"because you were in my lab? look, i'm not gonna to say i'm not still mad about that, but that was a mistake, one you've reflected on and regret… which is more than i can say for some people."

Dipper groaned. "Fine. I'm sorry, too, okay?"

"your sincerity is noted and will be taken under further consideration." It really was astounding how this kid managed to so effortlessly rub each and every one of his nerves the wrong way. And judging by the sour look on the boy's face, the sentiment seemed to be mutual.

Rolling her eyes at the bickering, Mabel said, "Look, I'm not cold anymore and this hot chocolate's filling me up nicely, so how could anything be wrong?"

"...you know that's not what i meant."

She didn't answer immediately, and in the time it took her to gather her thoughts, Grillby had returned with the burgers and placed them in front. Finally, a hushed mumble Sans wouldn't have heard if he hadn't been listening for it made itself known. "…Can't we pretend like it was?"

Bracing against the counter, Sans pushed, lifting the front legs of his stool and rocking, then allowed the stool to fall with a loud, disruptive clack of wood against wood. Though Grillby had moved further along the counter to give the trio some privacy, he caught the action and radiated stern disapproval. Sans pretended not to notice.

" 'fraid not, kiddo. you wanna try again?"

Her brown eyes darting nervously to Dipper, who was very much listening in on their conversation as he munched on his burger, though it wasn't as though there was much he could do otherwise when they were sitting so close, Mabel mumbled,"I, uh, went for a walk in your garden not too long ago. You definitely have a weed a problem."

Sans tensed, any improvements in his mood rapidly evaporating, though externally, the changes were minimal. "oh, did ya now? i've been meaning to get rid of them but things happen and i keep putting it off." Any scrapes and bruises he'd spotted on her before had been chalked up to the short spar with his brother, and now that the injuries were healing thanks to the food she'd absorbed, there was no way to tell if any ropelike bruises or puncture wounds had managed to slip past him. Still, he checked her over. "you didn't step on any thorns, did you?"

She shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking… maybe you could put off the weed whacking for a little bit? Just long enough to see if they do anymore damage?"

"wouldn't ya say they've already done enough?" Dipper reached for the ketchup, the struggle between the need to his stomach and the desire to participate in the weirdly cryptic conversation evident as he tried to chew and swallow quickly, but Sans swiped it away, mentioning something about the lid always being loose before he twisted the top and handed it back.

Suspicious, Dipper tentatively squirted the ketchup on the inside of his bun, surprised to find that it worked perfectly.

"they had their chance. if i leave 'em alone, they'll wrap their roots around the other plants and suffocate them. that's what weeds do."

The clinking of glasses and plates and silverware came to a grinding halt, leaving an unbearable absence of sound in its wake. Mabel swiveled her head to see no one was moving, not even Dipper. Awed and a little frightened, she whispered, "Sans… what did you do?"

"don't worry. you remember the tunnels in snowdin, right? how they make it easier to cross from the beginning to the end? really convenient, don'tcha think?" She nodded, not really following. "i want you to imagine a shortcut like that, except it cuts through space and time instead." And he'd lost her. "you and me? we're standing on the precipice of one of those shortcuts. time hasn't stopped for anyone, it's just flowing a little differently in the space we're currently inhabiting. instead of going along with the current, you could say we're forcing it to part ways for us, like two stubborn pebbles stuck in the middle of a river. while one river doesn't move us, a completely separate current, a different time stream, continues to move us along. The fact that we can move and talk at all is proof of that."

He stopped, realizing that Mabel wasn't paying attention, anymore.

She climbed out of her seat, crossing the floor in a few quick strides to experimentally poke her brother. "Woah. This is so amazing! How do you know how to do this?"

"you could say an old friend of mine left me with a few cool tricks." The overall tone was light, but Mabel couldn't help but think that he sounded a little sad.

"mabel?" She stopped poking Dipper. It wasn't often that Sans used her name. "i want you to answer a question for me, okay?" Lips pressed together with apprehension, Mabel slowly nodded. Sans faced her dead on. "that bandage on your chin," her fingers flew up to touch it, as though she'd forgotten all about it, "why are you still wearing it? you haven't had any reason to for a while now."

"Toriel gave it to me," she said simply, as though it explained everything.

"right. that leads me to my next question… what happened to the scarf she gave you?"

Mabel went very still, the color draining from her face. "I- I don't…" Sans held up a hand to stop her.

"that's okay. you don't have to say it. i just wanted to be sure." He reached out to pat her head, then pulled back, changing his mind. She didn't notice. "you can't save everyone, kiddo. it's just not how the world works."

Wrapping her fingers around her brother's wrist, she asked, "Why not?" But Sans didn't have an answer for that. Sometimes, people who deserved to be saved, couldn't be. Other times, they just didn't want to be.

He waited until she'd climbed back into her seat before pulling them out of the shortcut, allowing time to flow normally for them once more. It was immediately followed by Dipper reminding Sans that he did not, in fact, have a garden. He was quickly congratulated on his incredible detective skills, which merely served to instigate another round of bickering. Rubbing her temples, Mabel excused herself to go find a restroom.

Grillby gestured to the door on his right, and Mabel thanked him before padding away. She didn't notice how the bickering ceased almost immediately after she'd slid off her stool.

Dipper watched her go. "So, what are you two hiding from me now?"

Massaging his brow bone, Sans retorted, "it ever occur to ya that maybe it's got nothing to do with you? novel idea, i know."

"She's my sister."

"yeah. that doesn't mean everything she does automatically involves you. tell me, do you share every scrap of information with her the way you seem to expect her to do with you?" With such a gregarious sibling, though, it wasn't hard to see how the communication blocks presented by sensitive information could come as a new and unfamiliar obstacle to the kids, complicating what was usually easy and unrestrained. "keeping secrets is rarely ever a good thing, but sometimes it's the best option you've got, because the alternative is hurting someone you care about with information they're not ready for."

Dipper considered that, then asked about the picture he'd seen in the lab. Sans debated ignoring or diverting the question, but for once, the kid didn't seem quite so agitated. More thoughtful than demanding. "that picture's a little hard to explain, but if you tell me why you're asking, i might be able to come up with something."

When he hesitated, Sans assured him that the best place to talk about secrets was in crowded restaurants where alcohol was being served regularly. It served its purpose, successfully loosening Dipper's tongue. "Toriel mentioned that none of the human children she'd cared for survived, which I doubt she would have said that if she'd met the kid we saw on the mountain, and yet there's a picture in your lab with that kid and you and Papyrus and Toriel all posing together. How is that possible?"

"it's not." Sans stated simply. "the old lady was telling the truth. she's never met a fallen child who's survived this place, pap's never met a human besides you two, and none of us have been to the surface since before the barrier was raised. that picture you saw? it shouldn't exist." But when Dipper asked him to explain how it managed to be in his possession if it shouldn't exist, Sans only offered him a shrug. "it's a mystery."

To Dipper's astonishment, though, when he demanded that Sans share something as a form of equivalent exchange, Sans agreed immediately, even pulling out his phone and activating the screen. Several video feeds could be seen, the first few depicted different parts of Snowdin, then Sans swiped his thumb and Dipper found himself looking at a grassy path, a dock, and the entrance to a cave. After that… "Is that real lava?"

"what can i say? the folks in hotland _lava_ it." The tortured sound Dipper uttered was understandable, and Grillby sympathized, shooting Sans another stern look, but the restaurant was still a public establishment, and so he asked the boy to lower the volume on his displeasure. Outwardly, Dipper apologized, though internally he still blamed the skeleton and his terrible puns.

"Thanks for the burgers, by the way. Our mom doesn't really let us have junkfood at home." Grillby's flames turned a variety of different colors, shifting from dark red to azure to fuchsia. Sans, who'd begun drinking straight from the ketchup bottle, coughed, pounding on his chest as though the ketchup had gone down the wrong windpipe. "It's occurred to me that I've said something I shouldn't have and I am so sorry."

It was times like these when Sans couldn't help but like the precocious and inquisitive squirt, watching with a mischievous glint in his sockets as Dipper continued to blurt out awkward yet genuine apologies to the seemingly outraged fire elemental. The times were few and far between, but Sans enjoyed the feeling while it lasted. "alright, grillz, no need to keep scaring him. he's not implying that you got your product from the garbage dump like a few monsters i could name but won't. the term junkfood has a slightly different meaning in the Capitol." Yeah, that wasn't true. But Sans could tell the kid hadn't meant any harm by the comment. And, well, it wasn't like he was wrong.

Satisfied, Grillby moved on, after which Sans explained the video feed to Dipper, who listened, sitting up with rapt attention. "the royal scientist here has a series of surveillance cameras hidden throughout the underground." Though there were certain invasions of privacy that not even the current Royal Scientist would indulge in, so the surveillance he may or may not have hacked into through his cellphone did not cover private rooms, including bathrooms, bedrooms, and hotel rooms.

And since the previous Royal Scientist had never officially terminated his position and he'd never officially withdrawn his employment, he could technically still be considered a lab assistant, and thus, was merely utilizing lab property as an authorized and completely legitimate member of Asgore's R&D department. Wasn't his fault if he was the only member left.

Studying the images, one of which showed the exit to the Ruins, meaning someone watching the feed had seen him break down, seen him vulnerable and pained, Dipper bit out, "Why are you showing me this?"

There was a hungry gleam beneath the righteous anger, amplified by the exhaustion evident in the nervous, jittery way he held himself, and it set Sans' molars on edge.

Here was a kid that wanted to learn all the secrets, solve all the puzzles like that was why they existed, the _only_ reason they existed.

Experience taught Sans that people like that had a tendency to move forward so fast and focused that they crossed lines and stepped over bodies without realizing the damage their insatiable thirst for knowledge was causing, because they never stopped looking forward long enough to spot all the carnage they were leaving in their wake. "it's one less secret for you to find out on your own."

The kid was interested with knowledge, not power, but as the saying went, knowledge was power, and without the possession of the wisdom and experience necessary to wield that power, knowledge could be an unstoppable force of destruction. But if the goal was keeping the kid sane, then Sans' decided that he needed to rethink his role a little. Continuing the current trend of shutting him out and shutting him down would only alienate him, and Sans couldn't guide a kid who didn't want to listen. But there was still time to set him back on the right path. "listen, if there's something else on your mind, something you might want to talk about," the kid glanced up from the cellphone, dark brown eyes widening in disbelief, "i won't judge you for it."

A sharp gasp was heard from behind the kitchen. Sans' swiveled his head in time to spot a shadow ducking down behind the window. As much he would've preferred to go into the back and tease the girl for being such a lousy sneak, he instead pretended he hadn't heard anything. Dipper was so focused on finding the right words to broach the subject that Sans' momentary distraction managed to escape his notice. "The other kids who fell… did any of them start acting weird?"

The lights in Sans' sockets dimmed to the point of near total blackness. He turned away so the boy wouldn't notice. Struggling to keep the strain out of his voice, Sans asked, "… _weird?_ " He coughed lightly into a fist. "think you could be a little more specific for me? none of you rugrats are exactly normal."

"Well, did any of them hear voices? Did they feel…" Frustrated, he blew out a noisy breath, chewing on the end of his pen as his sought to find the correct word. "hollow?"

A harsh grinding forced Sans to realize that his fingertips were digging into the counter, wood curls spring up from the narrow strip he'd carved. Shooting Grillby an apologetic look, he silently swore to pay for it out of his tab, but the flame elemental waved him off.

Taking the strong reaction as a confirmation that Sans knew exactly what he was talking about, Dipper excitedly asked who they were and what happened to them, but quickly found that Sans wasn't interested in talking anymore. "At least tell me if you ever managed to help them?"

"they're all **dead** , aren't they? what do you think?" Ignoring the surprise and regret blooming across the boy's features, Sans pushed away from the counter, effectively ending the conversation.

When Dipper headed towards the back to retrieve Mabel, Sans crossed to the opposite end of the counter, standing near the jukebox. He watched as the boy tugged his sister from out behind the door, a rapid-fire conversation passing between them. The girl giggled nervously, her posture tense and avoidant where her brother's was unconsciously aggressive, snapping up the ground she surrendered.

Little by little, the balance between them was shifting.

A flickering glow illuminated the surface of the countertop, glittering in the polished varnish. _"Not in the mood for pranks today, Sans?"_ He looked up to see Grillby watching him, radiating subtle waves of concern.

"it's not my mood that's the problem," he hesitated, debating the truth of that statement, before continuing, "but i guess you could say that."

A white, jagged mouth of searing hot fire stretched across Grillby's face, it split open as he uttered a wispy sigh. _"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the two humans you've brought into my restaurant, would it?"_ Sans' stammered, unable to form a coherent response with his soul sputtering in his chest. _"It has been many years since the war, Sans, but the face of a human child is not one I will soon forget."_

The bartender had always known about Frisk, Sans realized. That they were human, that they were dangerous. When he found his voice again, he rasped, "why didn't you say anything before?"

 _"I have seen many sides of humanity. If you believe these children are to be trusted, then I am content to defer to your judgment on this matter."_

Unsure of what to say and not trusting his voice, Sans nodded his thanks, hoping Grillby could sense his gratitude without the underlying terror that accompanied it. Grillby and Toriel and Papyrus all believed in him, no matter how many times he insisted that he didn't deserve it. How many times had he guided a maniac through the Underground? How many monsters were dead because he couldn't bring himself to kill Frisk the instant they stepped out of the Ruins?

More often than not, the people who believed in him paid for it.

He stepped away from the bar, intent on leaving. The kids would be fine without him holding their hands for a while. He'd be sure to catch up to them once they crossed into Waterfall.

Dogaressa stepped into his path, "heya, 'ressa, I'm kind of in a hurry, so if you could just move aside-"

"Why haven't you done your job, Sans?" He forced his body remain relaxed as his gaze darted to the side, registering the tense and ready stances of Dogamy and Doggo as they waited, no doubt prepared to interfere if Dogaressa gave the signal.

If things got too hated, Greater Dog might take his side on this, but it wasn't smart to count on assistance he wasn't completely certain was coming. "well, they did stay in the inn. are you sure it's human you're smelling and not-"

She cut him off with a growl. "I have served in the Royal Guard for many years. I was active when the last human fell and I was there when they stole the captain's eye. Do not insult me, skeleton. The stench of a human is not one I would forget."

"and yet, they somehow managed to get past you, didn't they?"

Hackles rising, Dogaressa's lips curled into a snarl. "This is not a joke. Tell me why you came here with those humans. Tell me why they're still alive."

"you know, i've asked myself that question more times than I can count, and do you know what the answer is?" The guardsmen said nothing. "you don't? that's a shame. and here i was hoping you could tell me." He took a tentative forward, gauging the collective reactions of the Canine Unit. "well, this has been a fun talk, but if you've got nothing else for me, then i really need to go-" He sidestepped her, stopping short when Dogaressa swung her ax to block him again. It was beginning to get irritating.

"The pup – no – one of the human children was spotted wearing your brother's clothing. Is Papyrus aware that aiding humans in the Underground is treason?"

That was overstepping, even for the Royal Guard.

"you wouldn't happen to be threatening my bro, would ya?" Ice crept into his words, light faded into shadow. Though her pride as a member of the Royal Guard kept her from backing down, old instincts surfaced, screaming that she was standing in the presence of a predator, and her stern expression wavered, giving way to a fear that shone in the whites of her eyes. "cuz that's kind of what this sounds like." There was a clink of metal as Dogamy shifted his weapon in his paws. Doggo spat out his dog treat, crushing it in a fist. "snowdin's neutral ground, 'ressa. too many innocent bystanders for killing. if that's your mission, then you've already missed your chance."

"I am aware," keeping her tone was steady, she signaled for Dogamy and Doggo to stand down, "but who was it that brought them here?"

After glancing behind to see if either of the children were nearby and seeing no sign of them, which was also worrying but he'd deal with that later, Sans decided it was time to change tactics. Keeping his promise meant he couldn't hand the kids over to the Royal Guard, but he'd never agreed to fight Monsterkind in the interest of protecting humans - it was quite literally the opposite of his job description – and letting Papyrus suffer for his choices was never an acceptable option.

But Dogaressa didn't want to fight. Not really. And that made this easier, because all he had to do was convince her that she didn't have to. "i've got a plan, okay? if I play my cards right, they'll impale themselves on Undyne's spears without me ever needing to lift a finger. why waste energy killing them now when they're already walking to their deaths on their own?"

Dogaressa frowned, considering that. "And what about the extra soul?"

Palms upturned in a careless shrug, Sans said, "what about about 'em? there's nothing wrong with a little extra."

The look she fixed on Sans suggested she actually believed him, believed him and thought him cruel. She'd rip the kids' throats out if she got the chance, but at least she'd be honest about it. And the death would be quick. Maybe even merciful.

Content with his answer for the time being, she turned her back on him, rejoining her comrades at their table. Dogamy gripped her arms, worry evident in his pinched expression as he checked her over. Gently curling her paws around his wrists, Dogaressa assured him that she was perfectly alright.

Almost immediately after Sans attempted once more to leave, the back door slammed shut and he whirled around soundlessly, alert and unsettled as the sound of two bodies scrambling backwards shifted to the panicked footfalls of shoes slapping against planks and then cut off abruptly, becoming muted after the dull thud of another door closing made itself known.

For a moment, Sans stood very still, staring blankly at the swinging back door in disbelief. Then he spat out a curse, turning quickly to stride out the front. Before he could make it out, the three closest members of the Canine Unit stepped in his way again.

"Your role is to report, Sans." Dogaressa reminded him, not unkindly. "We cannot allow a monster with so little HP to pursue two armed and dangerous humans." Even after he insisted, voice quietly controlled and desperate, that he was hardier than they were giving him credit for, Dogaressa refused to budge on the issue.

Sympathizing with the skeleton's apparent desire to finally prove himself a proper sentry, Doggo put a heavy paw on his shoulder. "You can be a real nuisance sometimes, but you're still one of us. Leave the fighting to the fighters, boneman."

Shaking his head, Sans took a step back. It seemed confrontation with other monsters was unavoidable this time around. And as much as he'd like to sit this one out, there were two scared kids running through the Underground, each certain he'd been planning to betray them since the beginning, that everything he'd ever said was one long string of lies, all so he wouldn't have to participate in the dirty work of stealing their souls himself. Things couldn't be allowed to end that way, not if he was never going to see them again.

Pressing a hand against his forehead, Sans huffed a short, miserable laugh. "sorry, guys. i hate to tell you this but… i'm really not giving ya much of a choice here." Doggo's paw slipped through thin air, throwing off his balance as the Canine Unit struggled to process how the short skeleton had managed to vanish before their very eyes.

Leaning against the table, Doggo folded his muscled arms, already regretting having put out his dog treat. "Well, that certainly explains how he always manages to sneak up on me." He frowned, thoughtful. "Don't suppose you think he was telling the truth about leading them to the captain? He seemed awful upset to me."

Dogaressa bared her fangs. "At this point, it doesn't matter. If anything happens to the captain, I will tear his SOUL out with my teeth."

Nodding, Doggo went to fetch the sadly whining Greater Dog, while Dogamy gazed at his wife with gooey, lovestruck eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: Legendiaandmewnia has started a comic for Twintale on their deviantart page! It's very good, so if you're curious, be sure to check them out.**

 **It always struck me as a little odd that Frisk needs to roll in the snow to get past Dogamy and Dogaressa at the beginning, but can walk through Grillby's later without any problems whatsoever. And as for Grillby, well, it's not canon that he's an elemental who fought in the war per se, but it is a very popular fan theory, and I'm a little too in love with his character to have Red Bird do all the talking:)**


	15. Crystal Clear

Staggering past crates of fresh produce, they shouldered their way out the exit and into the open, breaking into a sprint before fully knowing why, the blind terror of the cornered animal taking over as they skirted the treeline, fast and fleeting as phantasms to the eyes of any monsters who happened to spot them. Still images of claws and fanged smiles printed themselves into their minds, driving them forward. Only one house stood out like a photo negative on a black canvas, and Mabel slowed, regret crawling under her skin, itching and stabbing through the panicky haze clogging her senses.

How long would Papyrus wait before he realized that she wasn't coming back?

There were no footfalls dogging their trail, no shouts or yells or whistles or even barks coming from where they'd fled, so couldn't they at least say goodbye?

Looking back to see her falling behind, Dipper slowed his pace, then latched a hand around her wrist and yanked her forward, forcing her to keep up as they sped across the still pock-marked field they'd used a training ground not an hour before, fog clinging to their skin, beading like dew drops until finally they were clear of it.

The ground became spongy, a stained blue, the trees replaced by stacked layers of azure coral stone. Crystals embedded in the walls radiated a subtle, natural light. And a waterfall, cool to the touch, rushed from the edge, its end disappearing into a mist that obscured the cavern floor.

Even here, there was a reddish-orange scaled creature resting on its tail fin, wearing a goldfish patterned t-shirt that squeezed uncomfortably at its thick neck. It lit up upon seeing them, eyes darting pointedly towards to the bioluminescent flower sprouting out of the ground beside it.

Further along was a sentry station identical to the one they'd seen the first time they met Papyrus, the one near the Ruins. Despite there being no snow on the ground due to the sudden heat and humidity in the air, the roof was covered with it, which led the twins to wonder if it might be the same one.

Mabel frowned, thinking of shortcuts. "We can't stay here," she said carefully. Even if running made them look fugitives, even if all she wanted to do was stay and talk and maybe even make a new friend, it was likely only a matter of time before that sentry station had a skeleton in it.

The creature deflated as they hurried away, crestfallen. "Wait!" It called pathetically. "I haven't told you about the Echo Flower yet!"

Dipper twitched, tempted, while Mabel threw a remorseful glance over her shoulder before jogging ahead, forcing Dipper to hasten his strides to keep up.

* * *

The next obstacle was a wide waterfall, which wouldn't have been too difficult to cross on its own, with a narrow bridge of stained wooden planks giving them a means to the other side, had there not been boulders dropping all over the place.

There was a pattern to it, though. The amount and timing were the same with every round, and Dipper guided Mabel across, mumbling aloud that the monsters must really be puzzle-fanatics if even the environment they'd artificially constructed for themselves produced time-based challenges. They were going to have to talk about what they'd heard eventually, but for now, they were more focused on getting away as far away from Snowdin as possible.

Still, Mabel took a short detour, crouching at the Echo Flower she'd spotted sprouting on a lower rung, cupping an ear to hear better when the flora began to whisper, _I swore I saw something… behind that rushing water._

"Really? What did you see?" Flicking a petal, she wondered if this was what the creature had wanted to tell her, that the Echo Flowers could talk, but then it repeated her own words, over and over, and she realized that it wasn't speaking but echoing, which did make sense given the name.

While she experimented with the flower by making various silly noises for it to repeat back to her, Dipper stormed back up the path, easily dodged the falling boulders, and yanked the head of a camera out from behind the watery curtain. There was a spark as the wires strained, then snapped, and Dipper held his prize in his hand. "I thought this place looked familiar. I saw it before on a video feed Sans showed me." He pitched it into the black abyss below, watching as it vanished with unmistakable satisfaction.

Wait. Sans had the Underground under surveillance? Thoughtful and unsure, Mabel followed it down, too. There was something she should be saying, but every time she looked inwards for the words, all she found was muddled and half-formed. What was the best thing to do? What would make everything better?

She didn't know. She wanted someone to tell her what the right thing to do was, because all the decisions she'd been making kept turning out to be the wrong ones.

A cluster of rushes grew out of the porous ground a little past the waterfall. The twins shoved their way inside it, paying close attention to the noise the reeds made as rustled, brushing against each other. Otherwise, it was too quiet even to be peaceful.

The light slapping sound of boots on tile halted their movement, and stood, paralyzed, as Papyrus, sounding uncharacteristically nervous, voiced a greeting to the very monster they were running from: Undyne. They hadn't even realized anyone was there. Daring to peek through the reeds, the twins laid eyes on the most intimidating figure they'd seen since falling into the Underground. The figure wore wide, bulky armor and stood half in shadow, with a scarlet ponytail streaming from the top of their helmet, the only splash of color that kept them from completely blending in with the dark.

"H…HI, UNDYNE! I'M HERE WITH MY DAILY REPORT…" Mabel quickly shook her head, not wanting to believe what she was hearing, but Dipper had expected something like this to happen. It made sense, didn't it? Papyrus sold them out to Undyne and, as a reward for his efforts, was made an official member of the Royal Guard. From the beginning, Papyrus had admitted to wanting to take them to Undyne for that exact reason. He'd never been anything but honest about that. The only thing he'd left out was that attaining his dream job would come at the cost of the rest of their lives. "UHHH… REGARDING THOSE HUMANS I CALLED YOU ABOUT EARLIER… UM, WHAT WAS THAT?" The light illuminated his hands, forcing Dipper to clap a hand over his sister's mouth to stifle a shocked and delighted gasp, as it was revealed that the skeleton was still wearing the sock puppets they'd made together. Papyrus himself seemed to have forgotten he was still wearing them, as he glanced down to see what Undyne was talking about before saying, "OH, THESE? I… I MADE THESE WITH THE HUMAN." He fell silent for a moment, before taking a step forward and venturing, "I CAN MAKE ONE FOR YOU, TOO, IF YOU'D LIKE."

There was jarring clank as the armored figure turned to face him, Papyrus quickly retreated a few steps back. He pulled the socks off his hands, hiding them behind his back, keeping them safe and out of sight. "I'M SORRY, UNDYNE. I DO UNDERSTAND HOW SERIOUS THIS IS… BUT – BUT I JUST DON'T THINK WE NEED TO DESTROY THEM!"

Neither of the twins could make heads or tails of the low, muffled growl issuing forth from the ghoulish grill in the captain's faceplate as Papyrus gripped his shoulder, looking miserable and refusing to face the other head on as he replied, "OF COURSE. I'LL HELP YOU IN ANYWAY THAT I CAN." When he walked away, it was with the brisk and barely restrained manner of someone trying to keep themselves from breaking into a run.

Enraged by the sight, Mabel muttered murderously, "Let me at 'em, bro bro. I'm gonna kick that guy right in his shiny metal butt."

As though daring her to come out and try it, the armored figure moved with surprising speed, turning sharply to pin them with its haunting ghost light eyes. As they approached, their steps were slow, deliberate, and all the twins could do was hold each other and watch, as though they were nothing but sitting targets for the shining spear of pulsing energy that materialized in one of their gauntlets.

With trembling hands clamped over the other's mouth, they waited with frozen lungs for Undyne to find them, but after a brief survey of the rushes, the captain retreated back into the shadows, two pinpricks of light from a hate-filled gaze lingering - a promise made, a curse cast - before melding with the dark completely. It did nothing to comfort, as however terrifying the armored figure was when they were clanking around, being menacing, it was always better to know where the enemy was than to fret and fear and wonder.

Dipper burst from the reeds, fuming, "This proves it. We can't trust any of them, Mabel." He lifted the stick he'd found and carried all this time, then chucked it into the river. It floated to the surface, bobbing briefly before the current carried it away. He grabbed at the scarf around his neck, then turned to see Mabel dialing a number into the ancient cellphone Toriel had given them. "What are you doing?"

She frowned at him. "Maybe we're missing something, or we misheard something, or… Look, I just want to give Papyrus a chance to explain… It's more than we gave Sans."

"That's because he didn't deserve it!" He tore the phone from her grasp, oblivious to Mabel's attempts to yank it away from him, as he lifted it over his head and ranted, "That guy wanted us dead the entire time! We never should have trusted him. We never should've trusted anyone!" His arm pitched forward.

"Dipper, don't!" And she leapt for the phone, her fingers just brushing its edge before it sailed past her reach, fell into the river, and sank.

Soon, there'd be nothing left to remind her of the first kind monster they'd met in the Underground, the sad queen who would have loved and protected them for their entire lives if they'd stayed. Even if she never called, even if she never answered, as long as Mabel had held onto to that phone, there was a chance that she could have one day. And now that chance was gone.

Jaw moving soundlessly, Dipper stared at the ripples in disbelief. "Mabel, I-"

"Stop it."

She turned to glare at him, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, before a high voice yelled, "Hey!" And the Monster Kid from Snowdin town burst from the reeds, imposing himself between them. "Hey, um, guys? I'm not sure what's going on but… I- I don't think hurting each other's feelings is the way to go here."

Weighing his options, which momentarily included tossing the kid into the river, too, Dipper asked, "Did you… follow us?" Even knowing that this armless monster posed little threat, he felt suddenly bare without a weapon in his hands.

Reacting to his words, Monster Kid made a face like they'd been accused of robbing a bank. "What?! No! I was following Undyne!" He relaxed. "She's kind of my hero and I've always wanted to meet her." Glancing between them nervously, as though apprehensive of starting another argument between them, he added, "Would you guys like to meet them with me? We could all get autographs together."

Thinking back to how they'd chattered incessantly of their admiration in the ear of any monster in Snowdin who would listen, Mabel felt the pull of a smile at the corners of her mouth, but couldn't quite work up the effort to help it along. Reaching deep inside, she closed her eyes, let out a long, shuddering sigh, and then found her secret treasures.

She pictured her twelfth birthday, delving into the memory until she could practically smell the frosting, could feel the crisp wrapping paper under her fingertips. Then she thought of butterscotch and cinnamon pie, remembering the way it'd melted on her mouth, of furry paws stroking through her hair, of piggybacks and snowmen and a date that hadn't ended with a boyfriend but a new friend.

She opened her eyes with a shaky smile, projecting as much borrowed cheer into her voice as she could. "Sure. Why don't you go on ahead? We'll catch up."

And thought the look Monster Kid fixed her with suggested that he wasn't convinced, he nodded. "Yeah, okay." He glanced towards the river, brow furrowed as though he were trying to work out a particularly elusive problem, "Say, why was that phone so important to you? Can't you get another one?" The question stole her words away. A new one wouldn't help her contact her friends here…

Friends she was leaving behind, leaving trapped. Friends who'd wanted to bring her to someone who would steal her soul.

It felt like her skull was splitting in two, and she pressed her palms against it, trying to force it to stay together. There were too many doubts, too many unanswered questions piling up and up and threatening to spill out. "I could get it for you."

Mabel parted her fingers to see Monster Kid staring resolutely at fading ripples, then threw her arms around his neck, anchoring him to the ground as though he'd dive into the water the instant she wasn't there to hold him down. "Don't. I don't need it."

Startled, Monster Kid asked if she was sure, to which Mabel could only nod, still refusing to let go. His life was so much more important than retrieving a dead hunk of wiring and metal, and though the kid assured her that he was an excellent swimmer, it didn't matter. She didn't care.

* * *

Though it required a few more reassurances, Monster Kid eventually agreed to move ahead without them, leaving Mabel and Dipper to walk together in awkward and miserable silence. He wanted to apologize, that much was obvious, but she didn't want to hear it. It'd been a while since she'd been this mad and a simple apology, no matter how sincere, wasn't going to guarantee automatic and immediate forgiveness. Not this time.

As they moved ahead, they came across a plaque with instructions on how to create a bridge from the enormous pink buds growing in a cutout section of the wall. Alternating throws, they placed each of the buds into the water, sending them across to the other side until the buds bloomed, forming a bridge of large, silky and vibrant petals that Mabel knelt to carefully stroke before jumping onto the first lily pad. There was a slight give, a bounce as the pads dipped under her weight, and as she skipped to the next one, it became a little harder to focus on the things that kept making her sad.

Right now, in this moment, she and her brother were alive. There had to be someone they could go to for help, someone who preferred to keep them that way…

"It's amazing, really." Dipper noted as he ran his fingers through the channel flowing around the platforms and curves of their next puzzle. "The climate here is tropical, like a wetland or a marsh. It's as though the weather here is completely independent of Snowdin."

After a short internal debate, Mabel decided they still weren't on speaking terms and let him mutter science stuff to himself while she approached a patch of luminescent white and blue mushrooms. They squeaked like little mice at the lightest touch.

Emboldened, she moved to the other mushroom patches, repeatedly poking and prodding them while Dipper carted around the buds, creating bridges left and right in what appeared to be an effort to solve the puzzle, though in truth he'd solved it early on.

Every now and then, he'd glance at Mabel as she poked the mushrooms, worry and guilt making it difficult to focus. Normally, she'd be laughing, darting around like an overly caffeinated squirrel, but the curve of her mouth was slight, a weary gaze illuminated by the blue radiance.

From here on out, things weren't going to get any easier. Without any allies, it was more important than ever that they cooperate and work as a team, which meant Mabel was going to have to start speaking to him again at some point.

And besides, Sans was the one who'd planned on leading them into a trap, Papyrus was the one who'd reported them to Undyne. Compared to that, wasn't throwing a phone into the river a relatively minor offense?

He parted his lips to voice that particular thought, then shook his head, thinking better of it. Instigating another fight wouldn't increase their chances of survival any.

There had to be a way to get her talking to him, again.

One by one, he placed the seeds into the water, creating a narrow, springy bridge to the sign in the middle of the pool. When he finally reached it, he was congratulated for failing the puzzle.

Annoyed, aggravated, and somewhat personally offended, he kicked viciously at the post, and then yowled, clutching at his shoe as his throbbing toes informed him that wasn't a smart move. The pad wobbled under him, and he swayed dangerously, flailing his arms as he desperately tried to regain equilibrium.

It was with long, gusty sigh of relief, a hand pressed to his stomach as he hunched over, that he celebrated the successful completion of a leap from the pad to solid ground. Walking around in wet clothes may not have been particularly disastrous to their health anymore, but even in the warmest weather, it was still uncomfortable.

"Everything okay there, Dipper?"

He looked up to see in time to catch his sister staring. Well, that was one way to get her talking. He'd been hoping for a method that didn't involve making a fool of himself or a shooting pain in his foot, but whatever worked, right?

Since he had her attention, he directed her to golden bell-shaped flower on the wall, and requested that she press it for him. If she agreed, then they were back in business. If she refused, then he'd just have to think of another method to regain her support.

As it happened, she took her sweet time brushing off her knees and washing away the silvery fungi residue off her hands, then made her way over to the aforementioned blossom without further complaint. Even if she hadn't secretly been watching Dipper as he'd flitted about like a worker bee, there was another convenient set of instructions carved close to the trigger.

 _If an error is made, the Bell Blossom can call Bridge Seeds back to where they started._

Whoever constructed the puzzles hadn't had trapping or stumping anyone in mind; there wouldn't be instructions literally written on the walls if that were the goal, so then why build them?

She pressed the Bell Blossom, clapping with delight when the flower moved at her touch, ringing with high, clear tone.

When the puzzle reset, she started placing the puzzles in towards the back of room, secretly pleased when Dipper followed her lead. "There's no chance that Mom and Dad haven't realized we're gone by now," he explained, going for casual. "Not like rushing now will change anything."

Some of the tension easing out of her shoulders, Mabel nudged him, making it clear that she knew what he was up to. He was trying to shoulder most of the burden so she could be free to gawk at the gems and the plants without care… But that wasn't how a team worked. And even after everything that'd happened, that's what they were. A team.

The flower bridge led to a room illuminated by gems, with an empty bench standing in the middle. A sense of silence and stillness pervaded, as though the room's time was forever trapped in the quiet moment before the rain starts.

It was a room where sound and motion didn't belong, yet as they approached, the Echo flower spoke in doleful tones, _I just wasn't ready for the responsibility._

After giving the flower a quick, comforting pat on its petals, Mabel reached under the bench to find the strangest looking slice of pie she'd ever seen. There vegetables and what looked like scrambled eggs baked into it.

Following a few sniffs, she wrinkled her nose in distaste, breaking the lonesome tranquility with, "Bleh. Hey, Dip, what is this? It smells kind of gross."

A light weight fell on her shoulder. She didn't move, assuming it was her brother, until a deep voice uttered with a smidge of self-deprecation, "it's called a quiche. that slice in particular celebrated its expiration date under that bench." Too shocked to scream, she jerked away from him, lurching forward in a way that suggested she'd expected resistance, but Sans had removed his hand the instant she'd moved away, making no move to touch her again or speak until she'd calmed down enough to listen.

* * *

Welp. There went any hope that clearing up this misunderstanding would be easy. Not that he'd ever thought it would be but he'd always been an 'expect the worst, hope for the best' kind of guy.

"Get away from her!"

The boy charged at him with a raised fist, aimed straight for the skeleton's face. And he was fast, even faster than his bird bones would suggest, but Sans had quite literally made a living off of being faster. Dodging humans out for his dust wasn't exactly a novel experience, so when the boy missed, nearly tripping over himself due to the continued forward momentum of the swing, and Sans seized the opportunity to say, "i'm not here to fight," it was with only the slightest widening of his sockets that he acknowledged the fair deadlier swing that came next. A rusty blade that he was all too familiar with sliced the air where he'd stood. And while Sans didn't scare that easily, he could appreciate that even while under the belief that he was some cackling, mustache-twirling villain trying to lead them to their doom, the kid was still hesitating. There was no telling for sure if it was due to morals or the presence of his sibling, but either way, it was enough to give him hope that the damage he'd done wasn't irreparable.

And although he'd have preferred to tire the kid out a little more, preferably until he was too exhausted to fight, the next swing came too close to his ribcage to allow when there was still Papyrus to consider. With a heavy sigh, Sans raised an arm, gripping the kids by their souls as blue magic wrapped around their bodies, lifting them off the ground by their feet until the blood rushed to their heads, the girl's braid hung down like a ropey antenna, and the boy had to scramble to keep his hat from falling off.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, Sans said, "listen to me, i know what you two heard back at grillby's sounded bad," he paused, gauging their expressions the way he would an audience at the MTT Hotel.

Huh.

There was that bloodlust, again. It was stronger this time, more potent… Talk about a tough crowd. "okay, so maybe bad's an understatement, but think about it. i never said you had to go through waterfall, never asked you to leave snowdin. you decided that all on your own." No change. Great.

Struggling to keep his frustration tightly under wraps – because scaring them into the straight and narrow had worked out so well thus far, not like it'd bitten him on his pelvic region at _all_ \- Sans told them, "look, if you wanna stay here, go ahead. it might be hard now with the royal guard dogging your heels, but if that's what you're determined to do, then i doubt there's anyone in the underground who could stop you."

"But we don't want to stay," The girl choked out. "We want to go home."

He'd figured as much, not that it made things any easier. "then you'll have to fight undyne. there's only one way out of here and the captain's smack dab in the middle of it."

The boy made a show of rolling his eyes. "Don't tell me you're actually buying this? He's just trying to get us to trust him again because he's too weak to kill us himself. This guy's doing exactly what he'd said he'd do and using this Undyne to do his dirty work."

"HE'S NOT WEAK!" The boy's eyes widened, shocked and uncomprehending, while Sans let a resigned sigh whistle through his bones. The girl covered her mouth with her hands, gaze darting between them with apprehension, before continuing in a more subdued tone, "He's not weak. He saved me from Flowey earlier." The boy twisted his body to face her, obviously not having been made privy to this information. "If he wanted us dead, then why save me? Why not let me die?"

"Flowey attacked you? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because he said you'd get mad!"

"I am mad!" came the snapped reply. "But only because you didn't tell me!" Sans leaned against the bench, watching as the exchange continued with mild amusement. Had he known early on that dangling the kids upside down would've resulted in this sort of open communication, he'd have done this sooner.

Eventually, the conversation worked his way back to him, as the boy demanded to know the reason he'd saved his sister. " i promised the old lady in the ruins that i'd protect any human that walked through those doors." The reason he couldn't agree to protect the girl's brother was because he'd already made a promise to protect the two of them, but even promises had their limits. If possible, he'd have liked for them to pass through the barrier without ever dying once, without ever learning of Determination or even hearing the word.

"Oh my gosh, so you do know goat mom?" Sans blinked, tilting his head to give Mabel an odd look as she singlehandedly demolished the strained atmosphere with an overly dramatic gasp. "I bet you're her joke buddy! Her _pun_ pal!" Okay, wow. Usually, he was always good for a pun, but that one hurt on a physical level… He'd have to use it on Papyrus, sometime. "You've got a thing for her, don't you?" Dipper waved his arms, trying to get his sister back on topic, but the excitable girl had already blocked him out. "That's great because I am an A grade matchmaker with many successes I could name," but won't, "and also, have I mentioned that I rock at make-overs?"

Sans shook his head with a chuckle. Where was the off-switch on this kid?

Once she stopped long enough to breathe, the boy cut in with, "If what you're saying is true, and Toriel really asked you to take care of us, then prove it. Help us get past Undyne." See, even if Sans were willing to fight Undyne, which he wasn't, there was no guarantee that he'd win. She hadn't exactly been promoted to Captain of the Royal Guard for her patience and people skills.

"now be honest," Sans replied, mainly addressing Dipper, "did ya listen to the entire conversation or just skip to the incriminating part? i'm not dragging pap into this, which is exactly what will happen if undyne thinks i've been helping you." Instead of offering assistance, he did the next best thing and told them how to get past her, without killing, without injuring her at all. "remember how you beat my bro? it's the same thing. undyne isn't after your souls for the _halibut_ ," despite the seriousness of the situation, the girl snickered, "she's trying to do what's best for her people. so forget about weapon, forget about fighting her. if ya really want to best her, then _outlast_ her."

Dipper gawked at him. "You're telling me that Undyne, the big scary dude in armor, is actually a _girl?_ " Best to get that reaction out of his system now. It wouldn't go over very well once Undyne was within stabbing distance.

Since the twins were beginning to look a little too red in the face, Sans gestured for Dipper to put his weapon away, though he would've preferred it if the kid took a page out of his quiche cookbook and left it abandoned under the bench, then gently guided their descent until they were back on solid ground. They staggered, woozy, as the blood rushed to fill their chest and other extremities, but recovered quickly enough to glance towards the exit, already eager to try their hand at the next obstacle.

Humans really were a resilient bunch, weren't they?

The girl hovered, looking torn, and he waited, wondering what more there was to say. "What about your friend? They're on the surface, right? Don't you want to see them again?"

Of course he did. Future naps depended on it. "i'll figure something out. it's not your fault you got involved in this mess, and it's not your responsibility to fix it."

Gripping her arm, she averted her face, gaze zeroed in on the ground. "If Papyrus knew that- that I could free him, that I could free all the monsters, but-"

The words petered out once he placed his hands on her shoulders and give a gentle squeeze. Looking at her, he couldn't help but admit that she was a brave kid, with a spark that'd drawn him to her from the beginning, and if she'd looked at his brother the way she was looking at him now, there was nothing that would have kept him from wrapping his arms around her and telling her that everything was going to be okay. But Sans didn't know that. He did, however, know his brother. And maybe that was enough. "he wouldn't care. he'd want you to live. forget about us, kiddo. we'll find another way to the top." If not this timeline, than the next one. They always made it, eventually. It was just a matter of time.

Sniffling, she wiped and rubbed at her nose, leaving a splash of pink in the center of her face, then rushed him, wrapping her slender arms around his back and pressing her head against his ribcage. He stiffened, surprised by the unexpected contact and the extra inches, then gradually relaxed into the embrace.

Lifting her eyes to meet his sockets, Mabel asked, "But you're definitely gonna ask Tori on a date soon, right?"

…unbelievable.

Loosening his hold on her, Sans playfully threatened to shoo her away, teasing,"you and your brother better get outta here before i start getting attached." Noticing the boy standing a little ways away with his arms crossed, Sans quirked a bony brow, "unless you want in on this hug action?"

The boy scoffed, too cool to hug a skeleton, but when the time came for them to leave, he made it a point to thank Sans for saving his sister. It was a big step in the right direction - there'd been a lot of progress all around - so Sans, having decided one good turn deserved another, took out his cellphone, typed up a few messages, then silenced his ringtone and placed the phone back in his pocket.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Madaya has posted a Twintale reading on youtube! There's a link to that and the comic I mentioned on my profile now, so if you're interested, go check them out.**


	16. Lurking In The Shadows

Once they'd finished rebuilding the flower bridge closer to the water's source, the twins crossed over to find they'd gained access to a separate section of the cavern. Stepping past the wooden doorframe, they discovered a room cast into darkness, the only light twinkling from the stones set in the false sky above, and radiating gently from the Echo Flowers below.

At first glance, it appeared the room didn't have an exit, but as it was the only way forward, Dipper guessed that finding the exit was yet another puzzle. There was an old, recently polished telescope propped up towards the center that he side-eyed.

"It's so pretty here," Mabel breathed in an awed whisper. She reached towards the ceiling, moving in a slow circle with her face upturned towards the light, her fingers wiggling as they passed through the pure, clean glow, as though she were trying to catch a moonbeam.

Close to the doorway, where Dipper had chosen to lean against the wall, he watched she as twirled, momentarily letting his guard down as the teal light cast by the flowers glistened through her hair, reflected in her bright eyes.

He'd missed this side of her.

Around them, the flowers whispered about how the monsters used to wish on the stars, ending with a quiet lament that all they had left were sparkling stones in a cave, but with very same lights dancing above their heads, Mabel struggled to imagine why a room so quiet, so peaceful and calming, wouldn't be enough. It was such a beautiful, lonely place. Why did they all want to leave?

"Because it's all they have." Dipper replied after she'd voiced her thoughts. He strode away from the wall he'd been casually leaning against to poke another flower, listening with his head canted and a thoughtful expression to what sounded like a young child claiming with enthusiastic and unwavering belief that thousands of people wishing together couldn't be wrong. "At home, you can go outside and wish on the stars whenever you want, but these monsters are trapped here. No matter how pretty this place is or how nice it seems… it's still a prison, Mabel."

Nervous, he observed as Mabel knelt to listen to the echo of a conversation between a pair of sisters. Despite the myriad of things they could have wished for, revenge being one of them, all the two asked for was to someday see the real stars. The pulsing luminescence of the flower illuminated her with a faint, azure glow, and upon seeing the dismay evident in her features, Dipper quickly added, "But Sans is right." Saying that made him want to gargle mouthwash. "We didn't trap them here. Considering how old those history books were and the fact that so few of the monsters can recognize a human by sight, I'm guessing we weren't even born when it happened." He paused, studying her closely. "It's not up to us to save them." And though he didn't bring it up, for fear of sparking another argument, Dipper internally mused whether or not a people that could condemn six children to their deaths, even if it was for their freedom, deserved to live on the surface. Perhaps, it would safest and easiest for everyone if the monsters stayed underground.

"… we could help them find another way." He looked up to see Mabel nod resolutely to herself, abruptly stand up, then skip to the room's far corner where a single Echo Flower bloomed, all while Dipper attempted to discern whether she was serious or not.

Having reached the flower, she lowered herself until she was on her knees, cupped her mouth, and then whispered to the petals. "You know we're not staying here, right?" Dipper called after her. She paused to flash him an irritated look. "The moment we find the exit, we're leaving."

She ignored him. Then a gurgled warbling and the sloshing of water in a glass bowl began to make itself known, the strange noises only growing in volume as creature with a body that consisted of a bobbing, mint green head, a fish bowl filled with water - complete with a tiny yellow bird - a winding tail, and webbed feet waddled in through an arc in what should have been a solid wall. The opening closed behind it.

"Two souls?" It muttered to itself, the voice like bubbles underneath the surface of a bathtub. "No. One soul… And something else. Unclean."

It shuffled towards Dipper, who was suddenly feeling very, very cold, its blank gaze locked in an unblinking stare. He self-consciously sniffed himself, then threw his hands up and shouted at the odd creature in exasperation, "I literally just showered!"

With the muscles in her legs bunching in case she needed to move quickly, Mabel jokingly suggested that the creature give her brother a second bath and, much to Dipper's consternation, the monster took the suggestion to heart, hopping excitedly at the prospect before spraying him in the face with a powerful stream of water from its bowl, soaking his hair and hat and shirt. It gargled, somewhat dissatisfied with the results, then solemnly turned to leave. It'd done the best it could. Its job was done.

The Underground was a messy, dirty place, but someone had to clean it up.

From her place where she'd sat whispering, Mabel gestured for him to join her, sunshine in her voice when she bumped him in the elbow and snickered, "Look on the bright side, Dipper. At least you don't smell _fowl_ , anymore!"

"I didn't smell to begin with!" She then eagerly waited for him to crouch and listen to the Echo Flower. It unleashed a terrible screech in his ear, a paltry imitation of a thousand ducks screaming in hell.

The sound traveled as the other Echo Flowers picked up on it, and soon the room was filled to the point of bursting with a cacophony of agonized quacks. Mabel winced, looking sheepish. "I may have gone a little overboard with this one."

He sighed, pulling her to her feet. "Let's just get out of here before someone comes to investigate the demonic quacking." He'd had a hunch about how the fish bowl creature had entered the room since it appeared, and based on that hunch, he inspected the wall. Passing his hands over the spongy material, Dipper groped for a depression, a switch, a trigger, something, and found a section where his fingers sank into wall. He felt hard plastic connected to a string, and yanked down on it. The wall crumbled away, folding down into itself to grant them access to the shadowed dock beyond.

After sharing a grin and a quick high five, they stepped through the hidden passageway, following the path until the soles of their shoes slapped at the dock's wooden planks and shadows flitted over their skin. Behind them, the Echo Flowers gradually quieted, decreasing in volume with each repetition until the clamor dwindled to an incoherent murmur, and then even that was gone, leaving them alone with nothing but the lapping of the pitch-black waves against the dock to temper the weight of the silence.

Cattails drooped, their stems curving towards the river they'd grown out of. Standing as close to the edge as she could without falling in, Mabel stretched to feel one of their fuzzy heads, then accidentally stretched too far, arms pin wheeling wildly as she struggled to reclaim her balance. Suddenly, there was a sharp tug on her sweater. Following the pull, she stepped backwards, realizing with a grateful grin that Dipper had grabbed hold of her sweater and pulled her back. "Stay away from the edge." He walked away to study the luminous glyphs carved into the wall. "I'm not going in there after you if you fall." Even though his back was turned, and she didn't believe him for a second, Mabel petulantly stuck her tongue out.

While studying the ancient glyphs carved with no grooves or imperfections to suggest the use of a chisel or other tool, Dipper's shoulders slumped a fraction. Regardless of how it seemed or what she thought, he wasn't trying to tell her what to do or boss her around. It was just, in the absence of anyone else, he'd taken it upon himself to be the adult. Someone needed to be taking this seriously, someone need to constantly have their head in the game, to be prepared for anything.

He just hoped that at the end of this, his sister wasn't completely convinced that he was a humongous jerk.

 _Oh, it's too late for that. Face it, once you're out, she'll drop you like a pair of old shoes._

The glyphs swam, blending and warping as Dipper bit back a vicious snarl. A hand slammed against the wall as his body sagged, fingers twitching convulsively at his sides. It hurt. It felt like his head was splitting open. Mabel rushed to his side, holding him up as she frantically checked him for injuries, but he pushed her away. He couldn't risk dragging her any further into his problems. Not when there was a more immediate danger at hand, and not when she needed now, more than ever, to believe she could count on him.

 _Oh, come now. Are you ignoring me? And after I've been so helpful?_

Gritting his teeth, Dipper managed to say in the form of an uncharacteristically low growl, "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Snorting with disbelief, Mabel retorted, "Do you actually expect me to believe that? You look like you just swallowed a cat. A really big one," she added thoughtfully. "With lots of fur and claws." To be sure Dipper was getting the proper image, she raised her hands up close to her chest, curled her fingers into makeshift claws, and hissed, pretending to reach out and scratch.

Dipper's facial muscles twitched at that. He lightly batted her 'claws' away. "Come on, stop that. I mean it. It's just…" There was a moment's hesitation where he studied his sister's face, seeing clearly how earnestly she wanted to help him. "I've got a really bad headache, is all." He groaned, shaking himself a little as he straightened up to stand. "These glyphs… I can't make heads or tails of them. The monster's must have their own language."

"Really?" Mabel said, glancing uncertainly between the symbols and her brother. "I can read them just fine. They're about…" Her face fell, voice dropping to a whisper. "They're about the war, Dipper."

 _There's a spell on these glyphs that'll translate them into the native language of the beholder. All that intense concentration you're putting into deciphering them is really quite admirable, but you're counteracting the spell._

So, what, if he stopped trying to read them, he'd be able to? How did that make sense? He closed his eyes, hating that he was listening to it, but when he looked again, the glyphs made perfect sense. The sense of smug satisfaction in his mind was thicker than smoke. "So we were the ones that attacked them."

It went on to say that the humans were unbelievably strong, stronger than all the monsters in the Underground. If that were true, then he and Mabel had nothing to worry about. There had to be some kind of a catch.

There was.

"But humans have one weakness." Dipper read aloud. "Ironically, it is the strength of their SOUL." Cold fingers snaked their way into his grasp. He hesitated, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Its power allows it to persist outside the human body, even after death. If a monster defeats a human, they can take its SOUL…" This was what the monsters wanted to do to them – what they'd already done to six other children. "A monster with a human SOUL… A horrible beast with unfathomable power."

The last plaque contained an illustration of a monster that extended its neck towards the sky, its expression twisted with agony as Determination tore through and changed its body. Its crowded maw hung open, trapping it forever in the midst of a tortured and mournful howl. Multiple arms extended from its back, hanging limply and uselessly down by its sides. It was at once ferocious, fearsome, and the most pitiful creature the twins had ever seen.

Saddened by the truth laid out before her, Mabel rested her head against the illustration, an open palm pressed over its grotesque visage. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Spotting a platform in the water, Dipper gently guided his sister towards the end of the dock, "Come on, Mabel," he said as his foot tested the sturdiness of the platform. It was a little small so they'd have to huddle, but it could fit two. Even if it couldn't, they'd find another way. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Thick pillars, all carved from smooth, multilayered stone with the same violet tones as the dock made for an intimidating first glimpse of their destination. The trip across the black and watery expanse had been nerve-wracking, as neither twin felt comfortable with the possibility of falling in when there was so little visibility. For all they knew, there was a kraken waiting for its next meal in the lightless depths.

They took a moment to catch their breathes before moving on, relief making them lightheaded, though the quiet on this side was even denser and more oppressive than before, a burden with physical weight. Looking down, Mabel noticed the long shadows stemming from their shoes, creeping across the planks like spectres.

Past the pillars, there was only a black void that yawned like the maw of an abyss. Anything could have been waiting inside.

With unease raising the hairs on her neck, Mabel impulsively grabbed Dipper and started sprinting across the dock. She didn't have a destination in mind and didn't need one. Instinct screamed at them to get away from the shadows.

A spear comprised of glowing blue energy sprang from beyond a pillar, stabbing the ground directly in front of the twins with so much force that the dock rippled and bucked with the impact.

Undyne stepped out into the light, emerging from the darkness with half her armored body still cast in shadow.

The spear blocking their path fizzled out in a shower of blue sparks, its magic spent. More glowing blue spears materialized in the air above, spinning until their points were aimed at the children, but the kids didn't wait around to be skewered. They sprinted across the dock, swerving and zigzagging to avoid each new round as they sailed over their heads and into the waves to vanish with an angry hiss of boiling water and steam.

The Captain of the Royal Guard followed their every move easily, effortlessly keeping pace with them. Dipper threw a fearful glance across the channel, then tore his gaze away from the white fire hate staring back at him, focusing instead on pumping his legs faster than he'd ever thought possible, as though he were trying to outrun death itself.

There was a whirring, a vibration in the air, a noise like the chirping of birds, and the twins, both spotting the rippling bluish glow as it spread across the water's surface, ducked in time to avoid the searing electrical heat rushing towards their heads.

So this was what it was like to face a monster that was truly out for their blood; this was the power they held. The glyphs had claimed that humans were strong, stronger than any monster, and yet here and now, they were reduced to little more than running for their lives.

Another cluster of rushes and tall grass greeted them at the end of the platform, and the twins dived, more grateful for the existence of grass than they'd ever been in their lives. Still, their stomachs plummeted, as despite going very, very still, neither believed they could hide for long.

With the persistent clanking drawing close, Mabel held her breath, her skin drawn and ghostly white in the low light, her eyes shining bright with fear as the Captain stepped through the plants without any signs of resistance. It was as though the armor protected, not a monster, but a mechanical beast. Something as merciless and pitiless as it was cruel.

The Captain's feet halted, so close Mabel could have reached out to touch them, and she raised her spear. Dipper tensed, prepared to roll out of the way, to fight, but held his ground, waiting for the opportune moment to retaliate. There had to be an opening, a weakness he could exploit. When the spear came down, he yanked Mabel towards him, believing the strike had been meant for her, but the Captain didn't move to raise her spear again. Instead, the young monster they'd encountered previously was lifted from the grass by his head. Though there was a sheepish grin on his face, Mabel's fists clenched with worry. It was taking every ounce of self control she had to keep from snatching the kid right out of Undyne's grasp.

Eventually, the kid was gently lowered to the ground, and Undyne, the monster supposedly hell bent on their destruction, marched from the rushes and reeds until the shadows leapt to obscure her from sight.

What were the chances, Mabel wondered, that the fearless, compassionless Captain of the Guard… had decided to give them a rain check on the whole stabby, murdery thing because she was reluctant to take their lives in front of a child?

They shoved their way out into the open, with Monster Kid coming out fast on their heels. At first, he was quiet, and Mabel automatically reached out to give him a comforting squeeze, but then his tail thumped happily on the ground as his mouth stretched into a thousand watt grin, "Guys, dudes… Undyne just… TOUCHED ME!"

"Congratulations," Dipper uttered, still too shaken to sound sincere.

"Hey, it's okay," the kid tried to reassure his new friends. "I know you guys really want to meet her too, and it's a shame that you missed her, but I'm sure we'll get the chance to see her again."

Though her laugh was noticeably dry, Mabel gave the younger kid an affectionate pat on the head. He preened under the attention, rising onto his toes to press against and nuzzle her palm. "Indubitably." Feeling bold and acting on a hunch, she scratched his cheek, fascinated by the texture of the scales beneath her fingernails. The monster child responded to the touch by stomping their foot, a low reverb in the depths of their throat. "We've still got to get her autograph, right?"

"Wow," he breathed when she finished. "That felt great! I'm gonna go on ahead, but when you guys catch up, you've got to do that again!" Tripping over his own feet in his haste to reunite with the Captain, Monster Kid landed on his face, then picked himself up to enthusiastically run in place, before taking off to find his idol. Concerned, Dipper gave voice to the thought traveling through both their minds, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Gaze lingering on the retreating spikes and striped sweater of their potential murderer's biggest fan, Mabel shrugged, "I think so? It's not likehis soul would do the monsters any good. Seems to me like he's in the clear." If humans were the evil, dastardly villains, than the Captain was a superhero, right? Heroes didn't hurt innocents. If she was really as great as the Monster Kid seemed to think, then tripping and bruising his snout was pretty much the extent of the peril he was under.

Further along, the twins spotted a slice of cheddar cheese encased in what appeared to be an artificially grown quartz crystal. Or magic. Dipper wasn't sure which was more plausible - that crystals could spontaneously grow around dairy products in the Underground or that some scientist actually took the time to cultivate the quartz for the sole purpose of leaving it out in the open as a tempting and impossible to consume snack.

It'd been placed on a short-legged stool that stood a few feet away from the hole some industrious mouse must have burrowed into the wall. Humming contemplatively, Mabel picked up the encased cheese and impulsively hurled it. It bounced off the wall harmlessly. She stared down at the cheese for several seconds, then sat down and started banging it against the floor. When asked what she thought she was doing, she crowed, "Isn't it obvious?" Bang. "I am one who thrives on random acts of destruction!"

Dipper bit back a fond smile, not wanting to outwardly encourage her antics, even if he was secretly grateful for them.

Then the Echo Flower picked up the words. Coming from her, it was a typical _Mabel-ism_ , but when repeated in the nearby Echo Flower's wispy tones, the words lost their playful air. Dipper glanced around, suddenly anxious to get moving. "Maybe you should save saying stuff like that for when we get home?"

The cheese slipped out of her grasp, flopping lamely on its side. "Get with the times! They don't think we're the bad guys back home, Dark Dipper Dorkface."

Oh, he _sincerely_ hoped that was not going to stick.

"Look, that's not going to break anytime soon." Mabel shot him a look that suggested she begged to differ. "Unless that mouse has a drill stored away in that hole," something which was not completely out of the realm of possibility considering what they'd already seen, "it'd be better off finding something else to eat."

Though reluctant to quit, Mabel carefully placed the crystal cheese back on its stool, silently wishing the mouse hidden in the wall the best of luck.

They didn't take two steps before they noticed Sans standing within an intentionally constructed dip in the wall, a telescope at his side. It was in much better condition than the one they'd noticed in the wishing room, its scope polished to a slight but noticeable sheen. Despite the signs that it was obviously well cared for, the star gazing equipment had an accumulation of nicks and scratches that suggested it'd been used often enough for it the carry the inevitable wear and tear of time.

"Should I even waste the breath it would take to ask how you got here before us?" Dipper asked.

Sans shrugged without taking his hands out of his pockets. "why not? it's not like you're using it for much else."

The barb lacked any thorns it might have once had, though that didn't keep Mabel from quickly wrapping her arms around both of them and chiming in with, "Have I mentioned yet how happy it makes me that you two are getting along?"

It was as vaguely threatening as it was sweet, a storm and a sunrise wrapped in a bow. For both his sake and the skeleton's, Dipper changed the subject, "So, I guess you like stars?"

Arching a brow at the shift in direction, Sans replied, "what makes you say that?"

Dipper shifted awkwardly. Though he wasn't in a hurry to start an altercation, trying to have a normal conversation with the skeleton after everything that had happened was surprisingly difficult. "Well, why else would you have a telescope?"

Clinking his fingertips against his jaw, the skeleton explained that it was a business venture. He rattled off an extravagant price, then stepped aside, claiming that the twins could have a look for free if they wanted since he knew them. Dipper folding his arms over his chest, skeptical, but Mabel had been too busy preparing her prank to really take advantage of the last telescope, so she darted between them, pressing her eye against the scope as her braid swayed, moved by the giddy energy thrumming through her back.

…Pink?

It was all she could see, no twinkling gems or crystals in the ceiling, and the ceiling wasn't pink, so that wasn't the problem. When she looked up to ask Sans what the deal was with his telescope, Dipper caught sight of her face and sputtered, bursting into a fit of unrestrained, gut busting laughter.

It was the single best sound Mabel had heard since falling into the Underground, but she still wanted in on the joke.

White pupils glittering with amusement, Sans gave her a hint by pointing a bony finger towards his eye socket. She gasped, rubbing her eyes to find that her hand came away from with a pink smudge on it, and rushed to the underground river to cup the liquid within it, taking the time to marvel at its resemblance to Wintergreen mouthwash before she used it to splash and wipe off the painted donut the scope had left behind.

Actually, she'd pulled a trick of a similar nature using Dipper's binoculars not too long ago, and was wondering as the mark easily washed off how mad she'd have to pretend to be for the joke to reach its full potential.

From where he stood by Sans, Dipper brushed a stray tear off his cheek. On a whim, Sans offered him a free peek, too, though all it earned him was a measured, flat look. Not sure what he'd been expecting, Sans shook his head. "i'll take it that's a no, then? for a kid named after a constellation, you're awfully down to earth."

"Actually, it's a nickname." They watched as Mabel curiously approached a teardrop-shaped monster with stubby legs. It asked her about stars, whether they could be touched, eaten, or killed. Then it asked her if she was a star, and Dipper tensed, ready to intervene, only to relax as Mabel struck a movie star pose and boasted that she most definitely was. "But, yeah, I mean, I try?" She twirled in a pirouette, then stuck her hands firmly on her hips as she strutted back and forth like a model on a runway. "Someone has to be."

This was one thing they could agree on. "better us than them, right?"

With warmth in his eyes and a slight quirk of his lips, Dipper remarked, "Well, you heard her – she's a star. Can you really blame a star for sometimes being a little _spacey_?"

Surprised and pleased in equal measures, Sans gifted him with a slap on the back, the perpetual grin he wore appearing sincere and genuine. "sounds like we're starting to rub off on each other."

Dipper adjusted himself and smirked, quietly relieved to hear him say that, but was distracted by the sight of his sister running up to join them, an ecstatic grin lighting up her face before she valiantly attempted to adopt a scowl. It didn't last.

When they were all together, one skeleton and two kids who couldn't quite manage to cross through Waterfall without getting a little wet themselves, Sans mentioned that he had an old acquaintance in Hotland that could possibly get them some of the answers they were looking for. When Dipper and Mabel started to get excited, he elaborated that this wasn't a guarantee, but he figured it was worth a shot.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Mabel paused in her steps, turning a tentatively hopeful expression on Sans as Dipper began to make his way through the network of platforms and bridges that crossed over the radiant pools. "You could always come with us."

There were so many reasons why he shouldn't, and so many reasons why he should, but Sans settled with a low chuckle, "what? and start to get attached? no thanks."

It was strange to see her standing still for so long without speaking, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips, as well as an exhausted sort of resignation in her young eyes when her brother finally realized that she hadn't followed and started retracing his steps. She started to walk away, stopped, then tilted her head towards the glittering gems in the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Hey, so when we get out of here," a slight, thoughtful frown graced her features, "whenever that is… don't forget about us, okay?"

They'd traveled through the Underground. They'd solved the puzzles and eaten Toriel's pie and played with puppets and gone to _Grillby's_ and escaped the clamping jaws of certain death, all so they could go home. But they'd made friends, too. The _best_ friends.

And that had to mean something.

For a moment, Sans was quiet, then some of the tension drained out of him, "don't you worry about that, kid." He rapped his skull. "this here's a steel trap. not saying much gets in, but not a whole lot gets out." Before she turned to leave however, he straightened and called after her, "take care of yourself. there's someone who really cares about you." Mabel's gaze flicked towards her brother, who was waiting at the edge for her, his foot tapping out a rapid-fire rhythm.

With a small wave, she darted to meet up with him, effortlessly linking her arms through his as they continued on their journey. Sans watched them go. Then started as the Nice Cream Guy poked his head out from the nearby entrance to the cavern where he'd set up shop. Spotting his fellow food salesman, the ice cream vendor exclaimed, "Woah! Sans, my phone's been ringing off the hook for you." Oops. Sans quickly checked his notifications to find he had eighteen missed calls. After a moment's thought, he held down the power button, switching it off. Eighteen was seventeen more than he was currently prepared to deal with. "What'd you do to rile up the Royal Guard?"

Sans replied that he didn't have a _doggone_ clue why the Guard was _hounding_ him but they most certainly were _barking_ up the wrong tree.

The teen scratched his cotton candy blue fur, nonplussed. "So… I'm just going to tell them you're busy."

That'd probably be for the best.


	17. In The Way

After a short tussle with what appeared to be a pair of sentient jello molds and the discovery of several more plaques, though the inscriptions didn't tell them anything they didn't already know, the twins wordlessly followed the path into a cave where the river flowed into a shallow pool. With no crystals to brighten the ceiling, and no flora to illuminate their surroundings, it all felt rather barren.

That is, until a canary yellow tentacle rose up several feet from the depths.

Alarmed, the twins started speed walking, intent on exiting the room before they could be engaged in another battle. On their right side, another tentacle, same shape and color as the first, poked its way past the surface, then began to follow them.

Hearts racing, they broke out into a run.

"Wait!" A large, bulbous yellow head emerged from the pool, with round, glassy eyes the size of satellite dishes and a light blush staining its cheeks. There was a rigid protrusion at the top of its crown that gave the strange creature the appearance of an onion, though Dipper guessed that it had more in common with a cephalopod than any vegetable.

"Don't… go…" They fixed the twins with a wobbly smile. "I don't get… many visitors…"

The cave was damp, its air humid with trapped water vapor. It was not warm nor open enough for clothes to dry, and though Dipper would have preferred to keep moving, Mabel hung back, waving cheerfully at the creature, causing it to adopt the goofiest expression ever formed in response. "I'm Onionsan! Onionsan, y'hear!"

She snickered. "And I'm Mabel, y'hear!" With a surprised gasp, Onionsan slapped its tentacles over its mouth.

After bidding a silent goodbye to any hope he'd had of not stopping to chat with every monster capable of speech, Dipper attempted to do the polite thing and introduce himself. "Hi." The aquatic monster didn't react. They may have still been in shock. He tried again. "Hi, I'm Dipper. It's nice to-"

"You're visiting Waterfall, huh!" Onionsan blurted out. "It's great here, huh! You love it here, huh!"

Mabel nodded fervently. But before she could utter more than one word in reply, Onionsan began to talk over her, interrupting as though she hadn't spoken, "Yeah! Me, too! It's my Big Favorite."

Though put out by the constant interruptions, Mabel increased the speed of her speech, galloping to a finish with, "Us, too! We've met a lot of cool monsters here and the flowers are so pretty I want to take them home with me!" The echo ones, not the cranky yellow ones.

Suddenly curious as to where one flower in particular was lurking, she surreptitiously glanced around, but spotted no shadows out of place, no petals quickly ducking behind corners.

Maybe he'd gotten bored and gone home?

"Hey, Mabel?" She glanced at her brother to see him gazing quizzically at what was by far the most talkative monster they'd come across, and after tilting her head to the side to change her perspective, it hit her that it was precisely because the monster had ceased their chatter that her brother was trying to get her attention. For whatever reason, Onionsan was strangely silent, floating easily without ever taking their eyes off them.

After shifting uncomfortably and trying a few more conversation starters, they decided to bid Onionsan a quick, friendly goodbye, and then hustled towards the exit.

The ridiculous monster followed them, ducking under the water as they lamented the shallowness of the pool.

After throwing a look of pure longing at the waterfall located just outside of the cave, Dipper suggested that the monster leave the pool and search for greener pastures, in a manner of speaking. "We crossed some docks not too far from here, and the water around them had to be deeper than this."

It seemed they finally had Onionsan's complete attention. The aquatic monster frowned in thought, ripples appearing in the water as they stroked their chin. "Well, I've tried that, but I've grown since I swam here, and now I'm too big to swim through the river without getting stuck!"

"Couldn't you get one of the other monsters to use their magic to lift you out?" Mabel asked, thinking of the blue magic Sans had used on them in the room with the quiche. Could that lift a whale? No, wait… Onionsan was an octopus, right? A giant octopus with a balloon-head and girlish lashes that'd make all the other girls in their class turn positively green...

If only she could have brought the monster home with her.

Visibly wilting, Onionsan sank partially back into the pool. With every word they spoke, a stream of air bubbles formed and popped at the surface, "You two are the only ones to really listen to me, though. Everyone else just waves politely and keeps walking. They just don't really contribute, y'know?"

Dipper and Mabel fidgeted, guilt gnawing at their insides. "Good thing we'd never do that, right, Dipper?"

"Nope." He shook his head, putting on a show of earnestness and sincerity that was really just that – a show. "Never. Not us." And though Mabel couldn't help but roll her eyes at how utterly unconvincing he sounded - she'd seen him talk his way out of worst things and knew for a fact that he could do a millions times better - Onionsan trilled, completely sold. "Right. So next time you see a monster skip the… What were you going to say?"

Stretching his mouth wide, Onionsan vacuumed up a huge amount of air, "I was going to talk about my friends in the city aquarium and how I'd rather not go there but I couldn't go there even if I wanted to because it's full." He paused for a long moment, then started up again once Dipper opened his mouth to speak, "and there's a rock band I was going to start and Undyne's going to fix everything and I'm gonna get outta here and live in the ocean, y'hear!"

Rubbing his temples now, Dipper replied, mercifully without any interruptions, "Wow. Okay, skip all that and just ask them to help you get to deeper water." He grabbed his disgruntled sister by the elbow, then started walking before Onionsan could come up with any flaws in that foolproof plan.

Once they reached the end of the room, Onionsan raised a tentacle to its brow, then cheerfully informed them that they'd reached the end of the room. "I'll see you around!"

"Sure!" Arm raised in salute, Mabel thanked the aquatic monster for being such a wonderful conversationalist, to which Dipper truthfully added that he hoped Onionsan would get the chance to see all their friends again, someday.

As annoying as the aquatic creature had been in their short time with it, it didn't deserve to spend all its time alone. And maybe more frequent company would improve its listening skills.

"Have a good time! In Waterfalllllllllllll." Not a moment too soon, Onionsan sank beneath the surface, leaving the twins free to exit the cave without any further delays.

Once outside, Mabel ran to stick her head behind the waterfall, marveling at the way the colors of the walls and floors blurred together, while Dipper stretched, his joints cracking and popping as he groaned, "I am never getting that chunk of my life back."

Laughing, Mabel insisted that, "It was hardly five minutes!"

And with a slight smirk, Dipper amended, "Correction. I am never getting those _five minutes_ back."

Drops of water from the waterfall sprayed the arm he'd raised to defend himself after Mabel had huffily dragged a hand across it to try and splash him. They were already wet, anyway, and considering the humidity of their surroundings, would likely be wet for the rest of their lives.

A high-pitched and bubbly giggle, slightly muffled as though rising from the bottom of a bath, emanated from the corner, halting what could have been the beginning of an epic splash fight. Her face was hidden, facing the wall, but despite the fins, her scaly tail, and spikes protruding from her back, she looked for all the world like a very shy, teenaged girl.

Mabel approached her cautiously, not wanting to scare her. "Um, hello?" She smiled in what one could only hope was an exceptionally friendly manner.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dipper spotted a muscular seahorse nodding with approval. Stumbling backwards, arms flailing, he pointed at the latest addition to their company, sputtering, "Woah! Where did this guy even come from?!"

"Her name is Shyren." The seahorse monster boomed. Between him and Dipper, who still did not enjoy being in such close proximity to him, he added in a stage whisper, mouth hidden behind the cover of his hand, "Her singing can get a little hard to handle when she gets excited."

After a quick glance behind her to see what all the fuss was about, Mabel shushed them both, then turning once more to speak to the shy monster in front of her, said, "You don't need to be afraid of us. We're just trying to find our way to the Capitol." A melodic humming issued from the monster, though she still didn't show her face.

Encouraged, Mabel decided to give her a compliment. "I really like your music, by the way. You have a lovely singing voice." She hummed a few notes herself. There was no tune or song in mind, just an off-the-cuff melody flowing easily from her lips.

Rather worryingly, the seahorse monster began to slowly float away. Since he didn't appear to be the kind of guy who would run away from anything less than something seriously unpleasant, Dipper approached Shyren with wary footsteps, fully intending to grab his sister and go.

Confused by what came across to her as needless alarm, Mabel stepped closer to Shyren, who finally turned to face her with droopy eyes, fins that draped like hair over what passed for her forehead, and a demure smile. "Oh!" Mabel exclaimed, then wagged her finger in an attempt to appear stern. "Why would you ever hide such a cute face?" Now that she wasn't hiding, it was easy to see that her head wasn't attached to her shoulders at all. Shyren was actually a little fish.

That didn't mean she wasn't shy, though, so Mabel kindly hummed a few more notes, inviting her to sing along. Dipper turned to see the seahorse monster was now several feet away, pressing his fists against his ears.

"Mabel," he began with increased urgency, "I really think we should-"

An ungodly screech erupted from the little fish, and the twins clapped their hands against their ears, falling to their knees as the sound pierced their skulls, drilling all the way into their brains with the delicacy of revved chainsaw.

When the song finally came to an end, Dipper and Mabel remained on the ground, their chest heaving from relief, adrenaline, and the lingering stabs of pain lancing through their eardrums.

Anticipation evident in the anxious twitch of her tail fin, Shyren waited paitently to hear what they'd thought of her song. "Like I said," Mabel panted, her arms and legs shaking, "you have a lovely singing voice… _ow_."

"Don't hum again," Dipper muttered as he struggled to regain his balance. He tilted forward, then backward, until finally he managed to stand upright, ignoring the strong pull of the ground.

In time, the effect wore off, and Mabel walked around Shyren, eager to read a plaque she'd noticed sometime during the impromptu duet. It said there was a treasure in the northern room. Jumping on the word treasure, Mabel begged Dipper to go see the room with her. It'd be really quick, in and out, and if they didn't find anything, than so be it, but could he really just ignore the possibility of finding a real treasure?

More intrigued than he'd like to admit, Dipper pretended to deliberate on her request, fingers rubbing his chin as he paced in a small circle. Finally, when Mabel looked like she was about to explode into streamers and glitter, he relented, "Okay. Let's go see if we can't find us a treasure."

"Yes!" She cheered, lifting him up into a tight bear hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

A grin stretched across his face. Eager to start their search, they waved to Shyren and the seahorse monsters, who was still hovering on the fringes, then darted towards the northern room.

Inside, there was simple piano, its mahogany smooth with water resistant polish, and an inscription: _A haunting song echoes down the corridor… Won't you play along? Only the first eight are fine._

They stilled, ears straining, but all there was to hear was the continuous rush of waterfalls as they plummeted towards the cavern floor, and the distant grunt of someone flexing in the distance.

Picking up on that last sound, Dipper frowned. "That's not music." Experimentally, he pressed one of the keys. An arrow painted on the wall lit up. There were several other arrows and a circle, and depending on which key he pressed, he could get each of them to glow. But no matter which symbol was activated, there was no change in the room. Mabel peeked under the piano's hood, in case the treasure was actually right under their noses and the inscription was a distraction, then checked the far wall, listening for hollow spots by rapping her knuckles on different sections, and finding that there definitely a spaced behind it, felt for depressions, switches, any trigger that might grant access to the secret door that had to be there. She looked over her shoulder to see Dipper pounding out symbol permutations, one tuneless combination of notes at a time, completely focused on the task.

Bored, she strolled down the hall to see Shyren had reclaimed her place in the corner, while the seahorse monster was nowhere to be seen. She waved, calling out as she tried to get Shyren's attention, but the girl pressed further into the corner, obscuring herself from view like she wanted noting more than to become one with the scenery, or dissolve into sea bubbles, like in the fairy tales their mom used to read when they were small.

From the beginning, Shyren had come across as just a tad gloomy, but trying to cheer her up had only made things worse. Maybe that was what happened when you tried to cheer someone up without knowing why they were sad in the first place.

She retreated back into the piano room, ambling about in lazy, aimless circles as she brainstormed possible ways to, if not cheer Shyren up, then at least make her day a little better. When that didn't come up with any results, she moseyed over to where Dipper sat, plucking idly at the taut wires as he continued to chip through the puzzle's possible solutions.

When that, too, became dull, she draped herself over the piano's top, allowing her braid to fall over the keys so Dipper had to brush it away with his hand. She giggled with amusement, feeling absurd and excited. They had to be reaching the end of the puzzle, right? Every wrong answer brought them closer to the right one, and they'd had a lot of wrong answers.

Quiet for the moment, she placed her arms over chest, content to watch the circle and arrows illuminate with a sea green glow, a property that much of Waterfall's flora seemed to share, making her wonder if the symbols weren't painted on with crushed flowers or seaweed. That didn't explain how they were connected to the piano, but magic was a handy explanation for a lot of things.

Above the symbols was an X, followed by an arrow pointing to the word, QUIT.  
"It's like X marks the spot," Mabel mused, one arm dangling now as Dipper began to run his hands up and down the keys at random, "but for quitters."

A jarring and harsh clash of notes prompted her to roll onto her side to see her brother's forehead pressed against the keys. "That's it. I've exhausted every possible combination. We must've missed something."

She slid off the piano, landing with a _hup_ as her feet planted, arms outstretched to form a T.

"Well," she said seriously, "this is where we have to ask ourselves…" Noting the dramatic pause, Dipper reluctantly separated the piano from his face, pinning his tired gaze on her as she confidently asserted, "What would Duck Detective do? He gets into ruts like these all the time, right?"

Though he would have much preferred to ponder what Sherlock Holmes - generally the prime example of an ace detective and his personal role model - would do, Dipper went along with it, thinking back to how the animal detective would revisit old clues and crime scenes whenever a dead end came up, and realized that the absence of a haunting song could have been a part of a puzzle from the start. "The instructions," he started with building and contagious excitement, "said the song was coming from the corridor, right?"

Certain they'd found the missing piece, the twins sprinted back down the hallway without hesitation, only stopping for a moment when they noticed Shyren still hadn't moved from her spot. "Shyren!" Mabel called with the giddy enthusiasm of a sugar high, beaming. The shy monster lifted her head with an inquiring expression. "We're going to go find the haunting song and then come right back!" Unable to contain herself, she leapt into the air. "We're going to find a treasure!"

This time, the inscriptions on the wall went unread. Certain keywords, like _Boss Monster_ , were difficult to shut out, if only because they seemed important, but carried by the momentum of their goal, they were no longer a pair of kids in over their heads, but treasure hunting detectives, and the plaques, whatever information they held, could wait until they were kids again.

Except the history of the Underground was one that refused to be ignored.

An old statue in the hallway, its horned head bowed in sorrow, rested under a singular point of rainfall. The droplets ran in streams down its rusted surface, falling from its crown until they slid down the statue's rounded cheeks and dripped over the hands clasped in its lap.

Stepping forward into the light, Mabel cupped the side of statue's face with a curved palm, allowing the cool rainwater to trickle over her skin. "It's like it's crying," she whispered. An overwhelming sadness hung over them, clinging, light but resilient, like the gossamer touch of spider's web. Standing in front of the statue, they couldn't help but wonder if they were standing in front of a grave, a stone to remember the fallen, the lost, the forgotten, and the laughter and joy and sadness that no rain could wash away.

It was a memory that didn't belong to them… but leaving without honoring it felt wrong, somehow.

Further ahead, Dipper caught sight of a garbage can full of umbrellas, grabbed the first handle he could wrap his fingers around, and then brought it back, passing it to Mabel. "It's not much," he said when her expression softened with gratitude and the barest hint of pride, "but it'll help keep it dry." After propping the umbrella against its shoulder so the bowed head was shielded from the endless rain, they turned to leave.

Until a gentle melody filled the corridor, a lullaby from a child's music box. It emanated from the statue's torso. Dipper and Mabel exchanged knowing looks, it simultaneously having dawned on them that this had to be the haunting song they'd been missing.

Though eager to get back to the puzzle and try again, Mabel lingered, listening to the tune over and over until she could hum the notes by herself. Then once she was confident that she could hum the melody in her sleep, she followed him back into the room with the piano so she could help match the symbols to the note. "No, that one's too high," she instructed. "Try the next one. Okay, now that's too low. Try the circle again."

There was twang like a violin string snapping, and part of the wall fell away, leaving an opening that was perfectly sized for a child. Too distracted by their success to notice the sudden increase of weight in her backpack, Mabel whooped and rushed inside, with Dipper following close behind, just as enthused as she was to finally find a real, tangible treasure.

The hidden room was small, and though the pink and bluish glows radiating from the gem shards embedded in the walls were just as beautiful as always, the centerpiece of the room was the sphere with the swirling crimson clouds, as though there were a storm of wind and dust raging beneath its glass surface.

After a short debate as to whether anyone would miss the artifact, though they had successfully completed the puzzle so they'd kind of earned it, Mabel shook off her backpack, bending to unzip it so they could store their newfound paperweight, when the bag began to wiggle, and a furry snout poked its way out of the opening, followed by a little white dog that poured itself bonelessly out onto the ground as though it'd been squeezed from a tube. It leapt at the artifact, lodging it securely between its jaws. "Hey!" And then tore through the exit, leaving the twins with nothing but an empty pedestal in an empty room.

All that effort, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

Gritting his teeth, Dipper kicked the pedestal, then yelped, hopped up and down as his toes protested the wisdom of picking a fight with an inanimate object. "Well, that's just great, isn't it?" As tears of pain began to swim in the corners of his eyes, Dipper furiously muttered, "Does that flea infested kleptomaniac have any idea how hard it is to solve a piano puzzle when you have _no idea_ how to play piano?" Since the question wasn't actually directed at her, Mabel stayed silent, knowing her brother enough to know he would answer it himself. "Of course not! It doesn't even have opposable thumbs!"

She sat down on top of the stone surface, throwing her legs over the side, holding her chin in a hand propped up on her thigh, and watched quietly as her brother vented and paced, all but breathing fire.

A concerned trilling drew them outside, where Shyren no longer hid her face in the corner, and her 'body' shifted to face them. What they'd first assumed to be arms were actually humungous lips and bulbous eyes on a fish monster that pinned them with a steady, scrutinizing gaze.

"Sorry about the commotion." Mabel made a face. "Have you seen a dog run past here? A little white fluffy one with a red ball in its mouth?" Shyren slowly flipped her fins, one and then the other, moving her body back and forth to give the impression of a headshake.

With a resigned shrug, Mabel said, "Well, that's okay. There wasn't much we could have done with it, anyway." And then, brightening, she added, "And we're going to find something even better. Something that'll make that dog wish it'd waited, because now it'll never catch us unawares! Mwah ha ha!"

Raising her fists to the ceiling and cackling like a supervillain, Mabel was too preoccupied to notice the hungry, wounded gaze Shyren wore as her gaze flitted between the siblings, but Dipper noticed it upon exiting the piano room, and walked over to extend a hand out to her and her companion. "If you'd like to come with us," he sincerely offered, "we could always use a guide."

Keeping her voice calm and controlled, Shryren conveyed her gratitude with a gentle cooing, but made no move to accept the offer, instead turning away with a finality that suggested she would not be swayed. No matter what was done or said, Shyren wanted to stay where she was, even if staying where she was meant staying drippy and sad, and Mabel couldn't comprehend why anyone would ever choose to be sad, but there was no resistance when Dipper began to tug her back towards the corridor.

Without turning, Shyren crooned a melodious farewell, filled with wistfulness and yearning, though she was forced to hide small smile when Mabel swore up and down as Dipper dragged her away that they'd all sing together again, someday.

And if they had to wear earplugs to make that happen, then so be it!

Once they'd rounded the corner, Dipper released her collar, allowing her to straighten while he examined the words engraved into the wall that he'd been in too much of a hurry to study before.

 _This power has no counter. Indeed, a human cannot take a monster's SOUL. When a monster dies, its SOUL disappears. And an incredible power would be needed to take the SOUL of a living monster._

Mabel ran ahead to collecting a scarlet umbrella for herself and an evergreen one for her brother from the trashcan Dipper had found earlier, and then jogged back to hold out the umbrella for him to take. And he gripped the handle, grateful for the comfort of something as normal and familiar as an umbrella handle, before raising it over his own head and following Mabel into the downpour that pounded the earth a little ways past the statue.

Whether it was from an aquifer in the mountain, run-off, or yet another effect from the same spell that controlled the Underground's weather, what little managed to spray their skin was cold, and they were thankful to be sheltered from the brunt of it.

Opaque pools stretched across the floor, each a black spot with no bottom, no light, until a young girl ran full force, jumping into the biggest, wettest puddle she could find. It soaked her shoes, her socks, and the hem of her skirt, but she threw her head back, the shock of the chill sending a quiver up her spine as she skipped onto the next one, kicking her heels and cackling without thought or worry.

Dipper looked from under his canopy, craning his neck every now and then to find the source of the rain. He didn't mind getting his shoes wet, but would probably die of embarrassment if anyone caught sight of him running and jumping through the puddles like his sister.

Once she'd completed her third revolution, he lightly teased, "Having fun?"

Balancing on one foot, she proceeded to bow low, angling her head up so he could see her grinning with cheekiness when she replied, "Not even a little."

"Oh, cool!" Upon hearing the young and familiar sounding voice, they spun around, startled to find that the little monster they'd bumped into while hiding from Undyne was standing uncovered in the rain, and utterly soaked from head to claw. "You guys have umbrellas. Can I walk with you?"

"Sure. How come you didn't grab one for yourself on the way here, though?" The kid wiggled in their sweater tube, unintentionally reminding Dipper that they didn't have any arms. A red flush spreading in his cheeks, Dipper sputtered, "Oh. Oh, man, I'm sorry." Monster Kid blinked, confused and uncertain as to why their friend was apologizing. "I mean… Here, why don't you just take mine?" Dipper extended the umbrella out to the kid, who cocked their head to the side, staring innocently up at the handle then back to Dipper, who kind of wanted to be thrown into the sun.

Before her brother could finish digging his hole all the way to the Earth's core, Mabel gestured for them to come join her. They hopped under her umbrella, elated and cheering. "Awesome!"

After a short, relieved shrug, Dipper asked, "So, how's the search for Undyne going?"

"It's going great! I haven't seen her yet, but I'm betting we'll be seeing her real soon." As they walked, Monster Kid chatted ceaselessly about how cool Undyne was, and while Dipper was content to let the excited babbling fade to background noise, Mabel never took her eyes off of him, listening patiently to every word.

Soaking up the attention like a beach towel, Monster Kid told her all about how Undyne beat up bad guys. She smiled. "If I was a human, I would wet the bed every night…" They continued, oblivious to the gradual fall in their companion's expression. "… knowing she was gonna beat me up!"

There was a hard turn and the path narrowed, and the kid looked like they wanted to say something else upon noticing the distinct glow of an Echo Flower, but Mabel took advantage of the brief pause to somewhat jokingly ask if humans hid under the beds of bad kids.

"What? Only little monsters believe that!" Monster Kid scoffed. "And even if they did, Undyne would scare them all away. That's how cool she is." At first, Mabel didn't argue, only nodding silently. There was an ache inside she couldn't name and it had everything to do with her new friend confidently claiming that humans were the stuff of nightmares, the boogeymen hiding under their beds and in their closets.

"But what if not all of the humans were bad, though" She pressed at length, refusing to let the subject drop if there was even the slightest chance of changing one monster's mind, especially this one. "What if some of them were really good and definitely not interested in hurting anyone?"

"Well, those kinds of humans don't exist, right?" After waiting for a response that would never come, Monster Kid continued thoughtfully, "But if they did, I don't think Undyne would hurt them." They looked up at Mabel, beaming from ear to ear. "She's way too cool!"

A hush fell over the group as a castle became visible in the distance; its spires looming, ever watchful, as they climbed towards the ceiling, their highest tips nearly scraping a cavern ceiling covered in what must have been thousands of crystalline fragments.

To someone with an active imagination, it might have been an army of fairies, their magic pulsing, steady and strong, as they struggled to break free from the clutches of a shadowy beast.

"That must be where the king is," Dipper said slowly, and if he was anywhere close to as nice as Papyrus seemed to think he was, then they were already was so close to going home.

"It is!" The monster kid chirped to the empty space beside them. They'd raced forward, too restless and bursting with energy to linger at what, to them, was a less than novel view. For as long as they could remember, the king had always lived in the same place, just as he had always lived alone.

They blinked, twisting around with confusion to see the twins had slowed, then hurried back to join them.

While gazing contemplatively at palace, Mabel jokingly mused, "I've always wanted to live in a castle." She could practically feel the look Dipper was aiming at her back, but he didn't have to worry. She didn't need to live in someone else's castle. One day, she'd be living in her own.

As breathtaking as the sight was, it'd be even better up close. They dropped their umbrellas in the next convenient garbage can, not because the rain had stopped, but because there might not be another one further ahead, and because dumping them made for two less objects to keep track of.

Further along, a sharp ledge disrupted the path, complicating matters. It was too high to climb, so the monster kid offered them their shoulders. And though the twins were skeptical, since they were both half a head taller than the young monster, Mabel decided to try stepping onto their small shoulders, and to her utter delight, found that they were surprisingly sturdy.

Though still a little dubious, Dipper allowed himself to be boosted up, clambering over the bordering ridge and then onto the higher ground, then reached down to help the monster kid up, only to mentally kick himself as it once more became apparent that the kid didn't have any of the appendages necessary to grab onto him with. "Hold on," Dipper said quickly, "I'll climb down and help you up. Then Mabel can-"

"Yo, don't worry about me. I always find a way to get through!" They turned around… and promptly fell on their face.

Pinching the bridge of his nose as they watched the little monster scurry off, Dipper muttered wearily, "I'd feel so much better about letting them wander around on their own if they stopped doing that."

"Aw," Giggling, Mabel ran backwards to get out of the rain, hands crossed over her head to form a shield until it abruptly ceased, "you're such a worried Mama bird." While Dipper jogged to catch up, she stepped forward, into the downpour, then turned around, perplexed, and stepped out of it. It fell like a veil, an ethereal curtain that could be touched and brushed aside. "This place is kind of weird, huh?"

Huffing, Dipper said, "If you're thinking that I'd get any satisfaction from hearing you say that now," a thoughtful expression crossed his face, "then I guess you're right. It does feel pretty good, actually."

Rolling her eyes, Mabel stopped in front of another set of inscriptions, tempted to skip them entirely. Things were going well, and nothing they had read of the monster's history had been happy, but it was like staring at a tragedy as it unraveled. She was drawn to the story, and ignoring it seemed… disrespectful, somehow. The act of a coward.

 _The humans, afraid of our power, declared war on us. They attacked suddenly and without mercy._

They reached for each other, clasping the other's hand tightly before moving onto the next one.

 _In the end, it could hardly be called a war. United, the humans were too powerful, and us monsters, too weak. Not a single SOUL was taken, and countless monsters were turned to dust…_

"So it was a massacre," Dipper said quietly, appearing thoughtful, the dim lighting draining his skin of its color, granting him an almost ghostly whiteness. "No wonder they hate us."

Hearing the guilt saturating his tone, and seeing the way he seemed to bend, breaking under the weight of it, Mabel tugged at his arm, urging him to move. They had a ways to go, yet. And standing around moping wasn't going to get them any closer to that castle.

Though reluctant at first, Dipper eventually followed her lead, trailing after her without resistance until they were standing once more on a platform, though this one was elevated, much higher than the first, and another ran parallel beneath them.

Shadows crawled from the cracks; the air went still, a string pulled taut to the point of snapping. There was malice in the dark, heavy and palpable, living and hungry. The twins slowed, bringing their steps to a halt as a familiar, ominous dread sank down, falling like a weighted anchor in their stomachs.

Dipper frowned, "Something about this doesn't feel right."

But when he started to turn back, a teal disk appeared in his pace, blocking any chance of retreat. Then another yawned open, preventing their advance. More came, faster, until they were surrounded by the dangerous, volatile magic.

Spears sprang from the ground, sharp and deadly and so close Mabel could feel the heat from the compressed electricity pressing against her forehead. She jerked, crying out in shock and fear.

Having been waiting patiently on the platform directly below for them to arrive, hidden from view in the false night, the captain of the Royal Guard stepped out of the shadows.

It may not have been a scare tactic, but if it was, it was working, because the instant the magic faded, Dipper grabbed his sister and sprinted, sliding around sharp turns and corners as the captain followed beneath, continuing her relentless pursuit as the spears repeatedly formed, sprang, and dissipated.

The pattern of their appearance, Dipper realized, was random. Though they were always close, their proximity in relation to each other often varied, from close, giving them barely any room to squeeze through, to a distance the length of several feet.

The magic needed time to fully form before it could be successfully weaponized, which meant that if they took it slow, they might be better able to navigate their way past the spears without injury, except every instinct screamed at them to run, the wordless cry a shrill ringing in their ears.

They needed to run.

They needed to run or they would die.

There was a full second between the formation of the weapon's base and the creating of the spear construct, so Dipper decided that their best course of action was to pour on the speed, attempting to pass the attacks before they were primed enough to inflict any injury.

It was a good, if simple plan, but the frequent turns often made the speed difficult to maintain, and when the platform began to cross, more and more sections that overlapping as some certain routes began to lead to dead ends, one of which nearly trapped them before they'd managed to find a gap in the disks that was wide enough to slip through, barely escaping, the sparks singeing their backs a frightening reminder of how close they'd been to enduring the agony of every volt contained in those spears as the electricity coursed under their skin, burning them from the inside out.

Her voice high with encroaching hysteria, Mabel screamed as another dead end forced them to narrowly evade another attack, "Where do we go, Dipper?!" The dock was too long, too large. Too complicated, too confusing to navigate quickly.

He thought fast.

They'd tried running primarily in one direction, but they'd run out of dock, which didn't necessarily mean there wasn't anymore, right? It just meant they'd been running in the wrong direction. He changed tactics, retracing his steps. "Come on!"

There was no time to explain, so it was fortunate that he didn't have to. Having realized he'd come up with a plan, Mabel followed him without question, keeping up as he darted down the dock, then crossed, heading back in the direction they'd come from. Her heart leapt, wondering if he'd made a mistake as the path began to narrow further, to the point where one wrong step could send them pitching into the black water below. Or worse. Send them straight into the captain's arms.

A mental image of being cradled, then stabbed directly through the heart, invaded Mabel's thoughts, and she almost stumbled, but Dipper whirled around, latching whip-like onto her wrist, and then the dock began to widen, becoming huge, and the spears were everywhere. "We're almost there, Mabel." Dipper shot her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I can feel it. And once we're on solid ground, she'll never catch us."

There was an offshoot further ahead that looked promising. They darted towards it, racing across until they could no longer see any sign of the captain beneath them.

Her strength flagging, Mabel slowed to a jog, her exhales heavy, her features tight with strain. "Do you think we finally lost her?" And then a teal disk appeared beneath her foot.

Rushing forward, Dipper leapt to tackle her off of the magic circle, and managed to pull her to the ground, but just as the spear began to take shape, it became horrifyingly clear that the tip of her left foot was still too close.

Before she could move, the smell of flesh and fabric burning overpowered everything else, and she jerked, a primal scream tearing through her as fire engulfed her leg from the knee down.

The sound was like nothing Dipper had ever heard before, like nothing he'd thought his sister was even capable of. His blood ran cold in his veins as he was forced to drag her around the magic circles, flinching at her quiet, anguished whimpers. It was all he could do not to stare at the smoke curling from the remains of her foot.

Looking ahead, he saw something that had him struggling to breath past the onslaught of a thick, swirling wave of despair.

"No."

The dock ended over the water. There was no more room to run, nowhere to go.

Somehow, at the worst possible time, he'd made a mistake. And it was going to cost them.

The captain took her time, striding towards them with the same, steady, unhurried footfalls as always. And why not? It was obvious that they were at the end of the line.

Slowly and with great effort, Mabel lifted her head, her eyes glassy with pain, and Dipper straightened, refusing to give the captain the satisfaction of seeing him cower in fear.

"Listen, you guys aren't actually all that bad, right?" He waited, but the captain didn't answer. All they could hear in reply was a heavy, harsh breathing inside the shell of her helmet. "Well, humans aren't all that bad, either." After a menacing step forward, Dipper gripped his sister's shoulders, fully aware that his words weren't reaching. "Please," he begged, "you're making a mistake…" And then, one last time, "Don't do this."

A volley of spears pierced the platform, and as the now separated section where the twins stood began to fall, the last dregs of hope in Dipper withered to nothing, his expression turning from one of anguished disbelief to a hardened mask of pure and utter loathing. He matched the captain's glare with one of his own, the smoldering heat of it unwavering even as gravity took hold, and the world was stained in black...

...

...

...a sweet scent.

The rhythmic lull of a waterfall.

Dipper woke to find his head was resting on bed of golden flowers. He groaned, fingers flexing into fist, crushing a few of the petals as he turned on his side, still groggy, though it evaporated like the morning fog at the sight that greeted him. "Mabel?"

The vibrancy of the flowers only served to highlight how pallid and sickly she appeared. Though still unconscious, her body shivered, her teeth chattering from behind lips that sported a bluish tinge, none of which boded well for her health.

In her sleep, her breathing came in small, desperate gasps.

Dipper crawled to her side, pressing two fingers against her wrist in an attempt to get a feel for her pulse, and though he really only had the frantic pounding of his own to compare it to, it wasn't difficult to tell that her own heart rate was dangerously slow.

He jumped from the little island, landing waist deep in the water, which he waded through to get to what appeared to be a huge pile of trash. Amongst the old furniture and cardboard boxes was a cracked cooler, and he yanking it from the bottom, displacing bits of trash as it rushed to fill in the empty space.

Once he'd made it back, he worked the straps of the backpack off of her, mechanically noting the absence of any bandage on her chin, then grabbed Mabel by the arms, pulling her away from the edge and closer to the center of the flowerbed so she wouldn't run the risk of falling in, and elevated her leg by propping it up on the cooler.

He tried not to look too closely at the wound. It'd been cauterized by the same weapon that had caused it, meaning there was very little blood, but it was also impossible to tell where the seared, raw flesh began, and the melted material of her little black slip-ons and white socks ended.

He started to move towards the water, paused, and after a moment's thought, unwrapped the scarf Toriel had given him from around his neck. Bending, he gently lifted Mabel's head so he could slip the fabric under as a makeshift pillow. "I'll be right back," he assured her as he climbed back down into the water, despite knowing she likely couldn't hear anything he was saying.

Whether he came back with help or giant sized portion of monster food (if it could heal scrapes and bruises then it could heal this, too), there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to come back.

He sorted through every pile of garbage he could find, reluctantly moving further and further away, until Mabel's unconscious form was well out of sight. Even if it was ultimately the best and only thing he could do to help her, it didn't change the fact that he was effectively leaving her alone, and he quickened his pace, haphazardly tossing bits and pieces of garbage behind him as he dug deeper and deeper into his third trash heap.

It wasn't until he'd passed a rusted bike with its wheel lodged inisde a jagged split running through a cracked tile that he spotted a rectangular orange cooler. It was newer than the first, with nary a scratch on it, and inside were a couple freeze-dried space bars. "Yes! Excuse me," he said to no one in particular, "I'm just gonna take all of these. Thanks." He gathered all of them into his arms, not planning on making a second trip. There was no telling how many Mabel would have to ingest to heal completely, but with any luck, the amount he held would be more than enough.

Still, to be on the safe side, he checked the other heaps, tossing aside a floating DVD case with claw marks through the frilly outfits of the magical girls posing on its cover, then began to cross to the other side of the room.

There was a training dummy, its snout long and rounded to help give it the appearance of a monster, but Dipper honestly didn't pay it much attention. It was just another piece of trash, barely even worth thinking about, and he had more important things to worry over than who would throw away a perfectly good stuffed dummy.

Having scanned the entire room, Dipper turned to leave, walking quickly so as to get the healing Astronaut Food to his sister as soon as possible.

Feeling the unpleasant sensation of being watched, he spun to the see the training dummy _glaring_ at him. It shook violently, then disappeared beneath the surface. Dipper started to run, then staggered back with a yell as the dummy burst from the water directly in front of him, purposely blocking his path. "Oho! Too cowardly to face me, are you?" Dipper gritted his teeth. He didn't have time for this. "I am a ghost who lives inside a dummy. My cousin used to live inside a dummy, too. Until… YOU CAME ALONG!" Ugh. He didn't even remember meeting another dummy. Maybe this was a misunderstanding? "He was so excited to meet you, but you slept through the entire conversation! It mortified them right out of their dummy!" Somehow, that seemed like something that was completely out of his control and pretty obviously not his fault.

With an exasperated sigh, Dipper said, "Look, I've got better things to do than stand here and listen to you rant at me, so why don't you just let me go and we'll call it a day?"

He walked forward, trying once more to leave, but the dummy was fuming, its hemp literally steaming and red as it bellowed, "HUMAN! I'll scare your SOUL out of your body!"

* * *

Mabel woke to the taste of chocolate and sugar coating the inside of her mouth. She smacked her lips, not quite ready to open her eyes yet, when a relieved voice exclaimed, "You're awake!" And then there was a familiar pair of arms wrapping tightly around her, lifting her up, and Dipper's forehead was a heavy weight on her shoulder as he whispered, "For a second, I thought I'd… I thought…" Through the contact, she could feel his slender frame trembling, and though the memories of what happened immediately before they fell were fuzzy and disjointed, she gently patted his head.

"Hey, don't cry. I'm okay."

Dipper sniffed, quickly scrubbing the back of a hand over his eyes. "I'm not crying." There was a slight crack one the last syllable of the last word, and Mabel did her best to nod solemnly.

There were empty ice cream wrappers scattered around the flowerbed. She picked one up, playing with the crinkling, shiny paper, before remembering that she'd been injured. Strangely enough, though, she didn't feel any pain. Gulping, she reached for the foot with the ruined shoe, pulling at the tattered remains to see… five whole and wiggling toes.

She looked up to see Dipper wearing a satisfied grin as he pointed to indicate the wrapper in her lap. "Your foot was all healed up after you finished swallowing the first one, but you still weren't waking up so I fed you the second one, too."

It could've come in handy for later, but they could always find more food later on. The same couldn't be said of a sibling, of family.

A shaky but genuine smile spread slowly across her face, like a rainbow peeking out from the clouds after the storm. "Thanks, brobro."

He rubbed his nose, embarrassed. Then took off his shoes. His sneakers were sopping wet, but they were whole, so he instructed Mabel to throw what was left of her flats and socks away and slip into his pair.

She pouted. "But these were my favorite! And what about you? You can't just walk around in socks." When he didn't say anything, she glanced at him, then down at the shoes he was stubbornly holding out and sighed in defeat. She grabbed the shoes, tossed off her own, then quickly pulled them on and slid off the flowerbed, but not before grabbing the orange scarf and holding it out for Dipper to take it. "Okay, I'll wear your stinky shoes," seeing Dipper open his mouth to protest, she quickly added, "but you have to wear this. Don't take it off, okay? Promise?"

He nodded, sealing the deal with a pinky promise, then put it on, making sure it was snug so it wouldn't fall off. It was very warm in Waterfall and his neck was going to sweat like crazy, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about Mabel walking around with half a shoe. With any luck, there'd be a shop nearby with some sneakers for sale (ones that preferably hadn't once belonged to any other human children.)

Once Dipper had slung the backpack over his own shoulders, having similarly refused to budge on that issue, and they were both inside the pool, they started heading towards the room Dipper had found before, the one where he'd found the ice cream. There'd been a slope they could use to get out.

When they reached the waterfall that stretched up towards the cavern ceiling, Mabel craned her head back as far as it could go, as though attempting to view the very top of a skyscraper, bending until her back curved into an arc and the tail of her braid dipped into the water, watching in blatant awe as it rushed towards the ground. With a giddy bounce in her heels, she reflected, "If it hadn't been for everything that's happened, we wouldn't have wound up here, and gotten to see something so…" She frowned in thought, searching her vocabulary for a word that could accurately describe the sight of clean, pure mountain water slicing through low hanging fog, then continuing to follow gravity's pull until it came to fill the very pool they were wading through.

"Majestic." Dipper supplied dryly. "Remind me to thank the captain for the view next time she tries to kill us."

And though Mabel made sure to let him know how unhappy she was with his surly response by puckering her lips and blowing noisily, she said nothing else on the subject, both because he didn't obviously want to talk about it, and because her recollection of the event he remembered so clearly he could see it play out when he closed his eyes was a hazy memory of a distant pain, and even if it was probably just a little selfish, just a little unfair, she was okay with keeping it that way.

For a while, the room was absent of conversation. Mabel turned the random trash over in her hands, examining old, untuned instruments that she nevertheless posed with. It wasn't until she'd unearthed a damp ukulele that she attempted to strum the chorus of &ndra's new hit single, Taking Over Midnight. "OooOooh, girls do what we like," the instrument squealed, sounding as though it were enduring some sort of torture, a feeling Dipper could relate to, but Mabel hardly seemed to notice as she continued to make good use of her karaoke prowess and sing, "OooOooh, we're taking over tonight. Taking over toniiiiiight!"

And because she was having such a good time, Dipper waited until she'd starting humming the verses she hadn't memorized, interspersing a random word here and there, before gesturing for her to follow him so they could finally leave the company of all the monsters' broken and unwanted junk.

He'd almost made it up the slope when he noticed she wasn't following. Again.

Turning around, he saw her staring at the abandoned training dummy, confusion and mild apprehension clouding her usually bright expression as she studied the damage.

Its seams were slashed open, huge gashes along its face and torso where stuffing spilled out in clumps, some of which detached, floating lazily along the pool's surface.

She looked to him as he stepped down to join her, her voice small as she asked, "What do you think happened to it?"

"I'm not sure." He spared the broken dummy a cursory glance, before adding with a shrug, "It was like that when I woke up."


	18. Encounters of the Shy Kind

"Do you think anyone's home?"

Shortly after exiting the junkyard, they'd discovered two houses, each straight at their base, their structures running parallel to each other before their tops diverged, giving the illusion of sagging, like warm popsicles melting in opposite directions.

One was blue with a roof that adorned its ceiling like a small hat, as well as a blue door, and even a round, stained blue window. The other was soft pink, its own window tinted towards a rose-like hue.

The phrase 'seeing the world through rose tinted glasses' came to mind, though not to Mabel's mind as she called dibs on the pink house, rushing forward to rap her knuckles on the door three times. To her disappointment, no one arrived to answer the door. It seemed the place was empty.

At the same time, Dipper tapped almost inaudibly on the door to the blue house, hoping against hope that whoever lived in it was out shopping for groceries or something. Mabel had wanted to find someone to ask for directions when they reached the crossroads outside of the junkyard, but he was certain that they were doing just fine on their own. The less monsters they became involved with, the better. "Looks like they're not here. What a bummer." He shrugged, turning to leave. "Well, what can ya do? Let's just-"

A chill similar to a brain freeze spread from his scalp to his brain, and he shivered, confused as to why his head was suddenly so cold. "hello?" said a soft, hesitant voice. "is someone… out here?" Dipper looked up, meeting eyes with the ghost that had taken advantage of its intangibility to pass through the door, leading to their current predicament where it now hovered with its lower half phasing through his skull.

It was clear that the ghost hadn't meant to pass into him, as they made a quiet noise of shock, a breathy, "aaaaahhhhhh…." that was overwhelmed by the startled shriek Dipper simultaneously let loose as he furiously backpedaled out of the way.

"oh no…. i scared you, didn't i? ….sorry… i didn't meant to…. " As they spoke, they began to fade, becoming more transparent with each passing second until Mabel, in a burst of inspiration, claimed that the screaming was all part of a play they were rehearsing for, and the timing, though unfortunate, was all just a silly coincidence.

The lie left a sour taste in her mouth, but since the white pupil's of the ghost had stopped wobbling as though they were getting ready to cry, she figured that the tiny white lie could be forgiven.

When prompted, Dipper nodded numbly, still in disbelief that all the toddlers and uninspired teenagers who went trick-or-treating in white sheets with eyeholes cut into them were, in fact, wearing the costumes most faithful to the real deal. "oh…" The ghost's mouth turned upwards in a slight curve. "…a play… would you like to hear my music? that… must be why you're here, right? please pardon the mess… it's not very often that anyone comes to visit."

Before leaving, the ghost introduced themselves as Napstablook, then gradually eased themselves back into their home, once more forgoing the use of their door, though whether or not they could even affect solid objects was proving to be yet another mystery in need of solving. Though unable to float through the door, Mabel eagerly followed, finding the inside to be in sore need of an interior decorator. There were cracks in the walls, spider webs in the corners, holes in the discolored wooden floor, and dust on every surface. With that said, there was also an old refrigerator (though why a ghost would need a refrigerator was anyone's guess), an ancient television cube, complete with antenna, and a desktop computer, thereby fulfilling every basic survival need of the socially reclusive. Or perhaps not, considering the state of the house's inhabitant.

There were several CD's by the wall closest to the doorway, which Mabel took to mean these were the CD's Napstablook had wanted them to listen to. The ghost watched her closely, hovering by their computer with headphones resting on the sides of their head, thereby handily resolving the mystery of whether or not they could touch corporeal objects.

Wouldn't it be great if all mysteries were that easy?

Mabel turned around, expecting to find her brother following close behind, to discover she was alone. Apologizing quickly to Napstablook, who seemed both disappointed and resigned despite her assurances that she'd be right back, she hurried outside to find her brother leaning against the wall.

He raised a questioning brow at her. "Done, already? That didn't take long."

"What are you doing?" Her eyes flicked from him to where she knew Napstablook was sulking, believing they'd changed their minds about listening to his music, or worse, downright abandoned him. "We can't stay out here when we were already invited in!"

"You go ahead." He pulled away as she tried to tug him inside. "It's better if I stay out here." She stopped.

Moving in an attempt to stare directly into his eyes even as he repeatedly moved to avoid her, Mabel asked, "Better for _who_ , Dipper?"

Too stunned by the question to avoid the subject, he could only quietly admit that something wasn't adding up.

Mabel frowned, feeling helpless. "You're the only one in your noggin, Dipdop," she said seriously, but the assertion didn't seem to help any. As much confidence as she'd tried to inject into her words, there'd been a false, tinny quality, as though they'd been for the sole purpose of trivializing whatever it was he was going through instead of addressing it. She worried her lip, stamping down on the spike of fear that shot through her when he turned away. The memory of the unfamiliar glee he'd worn back in the clearing, before they'd arrived in Snowdin, rose forcefully to the forefront of her mind. Back then, there'd been something strange, something off about his eyes, but not anything that couldn't have been explained away as a trick of the light, an illusion propelled by stress, and so she'd written it off when things calmed down, refusing to think about it even after he'd scared her in the library. But the uncharacteristic anger that seemed to possess him sometimes was undeniable. Although they, like other siblings, were certainly no strangers to the occasional spat, they largely got along at home. Even at his angriest, he'd never gone the extent of breaking something of hers, especially not on purpose.

And he'd regretted throwing the phone into the water instantly, as though he hadn't really meant to do it….

Unbeknownst to her, her grip on him tightened, causing him to wince. "And even if you're not…" Deliberation and the last dregs of a reluctance she couldn't quite shake slowed her speech, though there was no shred of doubt in her expression, just an unbreakable resolve as she spoke what she truly believed. "It's _your_ brain. You're the boss in your own brain."

Unexpectedly, a high cackle infected the air, and she had to fight not to loosen her hold on him, not to step back, but when her brother shifted enough for her to see his face, there was no trace of the distorted laughter lurking around his eyes and mouth. Instead, an unmistakable weariness presented itself, as though simply standing had rapidly aged him. "I'm starting to wonder if that's still the case, Mabel." He opened a clenched palm to reveal a clump of wet stuffing. "I found this in my back pocket..." He didn't specify which. There was no need. "How sure can we really be that I wasn't the one who destroyed that mannequin?" Until he was sure, it'd be better for everyone involved if he crossed paths with the monsters as little as possible. Surely, Mabel could handle talking to a ghost with self-esteem issues without him around to decorate the wall.

A sinking suspicion spread like oil, greasy and slick. "Are you really telling me that you think you had something to do with that?" Distraught, she slapped the stuffing out of his hand. "That stuff was floating around when we got there. It could have snuck in whenever!" When he didn't respond immediately, she sternly planted her hands on her hips, a pose that bore an uncanny resemblance to that of their mother on the nights when Dipper was caught using a flashlight to read past his bedtime. "Well, I know you didn't. And you know how I know?"

Overwhelmed by an exhaustion no amount of rest could cure, he allowed his lids to droop, shutting out the light. "…how?"

In response, she placed her palms on both his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, to really see her. "Because you told me you didn't. And I believe you. I believe _in_ you, Dipper… even if you don't."

It was so simple, so cut and dry, and though sincerity was written in every line and curve of her body, Dipper would have been able to tell from the steady confidence in her voice alone how much she meant it, and though it felt good – great - to be believed in, to know that he was with someone who, despite everything, still trusted him this much, to this extent… He couldn't help but wonder if that amount of boundless faith came with its own share of drawbacks.

Canting her head towards the entrance to Napstablook's house, she wordlessly asked again if he'd go in with her, and after dragging a hand over his brow, Dipper stood a little taller, spun her around, paying no mind to the resulting confused squeak, then placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, giving her a little push before she understood that he'd finally changed his mind about staying outside alone, and confidently marched past the threshold, with Dipper following close behind, relieved, because as long as she faced forward, she couldn't see his expression begin to slip.

As for Mabel, the weight of him on her shoulders was heavier than she was used to, but certainly no more than she could handle.

And besides… it wasn't like she minded being leaned on.

* * *

When they walked through the door, Napstablook hovered closer, more surprised by their return than the initial visit.

Mabel found the their quiet awe endearing, assuring the ghost monster that they'd never have left without saying goodbye, while Dipper, on the other hand, found the entire situation entirely too relatable.

As promised, they listened to the CD's. The one labeled, Spooktunes, played something akin to synthesized funk in a repeated pattern, and the second, Spookwave, played the same tune as the first, except with an additional reverberation effect. The twins struggled with how to tell their host their taste in music was very strange, indeed.

Before airing those thoughts, however, they pressed play on the last CD, and were pleasantly surprised by how different it was from the first two. Certainly, it was Halloween-esque, its wispy, eerie vocals bringing swiftly to mind backyards full of cardboard headstones, crisp autumn leaves, and fog machines, but there was lively yet experimental quality to it that appealed as much to their taste as it did to their nostalgia.

In soft tones, as though forgetting all about their visitors, Napstablook began to follow along with the lyrics, content to bob and sway in place to the melody of their favorite songs.

Judging by the music forum on the computer screen and the mixing equipment by the keyboard, music, in all its forms, was Napstablook's passion. It was something they truly enjoyed, enough to devote all their time to it, and though their audience would be small in the Underground, if they worked at their craft and improved, then who knew what miracles the future could bring?

They had to happen somewhere, sometime, right? The trapped monsters only needed one.

Finally, Dipper said, "You have good taste in music. It's different, but not in a bad way or anything." Making full use of his most professional intonations, he remarked, "A play could really use music like this."

Stepping forward, Mabel glanced around, before asking if there was a demo of Napstablook's own songs lying around that they could hold onto for an indefinite period of time.

Overwhelmed by the unexpected interest, Napstablook stared at her for a long time, huge globs of tears beginning to drip from his form, hitting the ground in splashes that hissed and bubbled as they ate holes into the wood floor.

Not too keen on being burned again, and so soon after the last time, she took a cautious step back, careful not to let the discomfort show.

"sorry… it's just that i'm... so happy you like it..."

Shoulders slumping with relief as their tears began to fade into the ether, Mabel glanced over her shoulder in an attempt to share a triumphant look with Dipper, her heart still thumping loudly in her ears from the moment she'd believed they'd accidentally upset Napstablook, but Dipper's attention seemed to be focused elsewhere.

When Napstablook hovered over to the refrigerator to over them a sandwich, as thanks for the visit, he visibly roused himself, once more taking an interest in the proceedings.

The sandwich was transparent – a fact that became ever more readily apparent when Mabel waggled her fingers under it – and glowed green around the edges, but Dipper reached for it when it was offered, honestly surprised when it phased through his hands, sinking straight through the floor.

Napstablook sounded apologetic, perhaps having forgotten that not everyone could touch incorporeal objects, as they politely asked the twins to forget about the lost sandwich, which was no doubt well on its way to the Earth's core, and hastily changed the subject. "after a great meal, i like to lie down on the ground and feel like garbage… it's a family tradition… do you want… to join me?"

Several seconds passed without an answer, though the decision was a relatively easy one for Dipper. Since feeling like garbage wasn't too far of a stretch for him, all he really had to do was lie down.

Thoroughly confused, Mabel looked on as her brother followed Napstablook's lead and lowered himself onto the floor, closing his eyes. And though outwardly it appeared that nothing had changed, the universe slowly began to open itself up to Dipper, divulging its secrets in whispers so close to levels of human comprehension that it felt as though all he had to do was reach out, and everything he'd ever wanted to know would instantly and irrevocably fall into place.

Though aware of the tranquility of the scene, Mabel still couldn't bring herself to understand the appeal of lying down and feeling bad about yourself. Especially not when there were so many things to feel good about, instead. As time ticked on and neither party showed any sign of standing, she began to grow restless. At first, she tried to lie down and keep still, but quickly grew bored of staring at the backs of her eyelids. Napstablook's ceiling managed to hold her interest for a longer period of time, though not long enough, as she was soon back on her feet, pacing around the room like a wild pony trapped in a stable.

"Dipper," she murmured into his ear, kneeling so as to lessen the chances of Napstablook overhearing, "I'd really like to go now."

"Couple more minutes, Mabel." Groggy and on the verge of sleep, he waved her away with a yawn. "I think I'm pretty good at this."

Unfortunately, the spell was broken. He cracked open a lid to see her hovering too close, a heavy frown etched into her features. Sighing, he rolled over and yawned, stretching out his limbs at the same time Napstablook lifted off the ground, thanked them, and then kindly explained that they would like to resume their work on their latest mix album. It was an extremely polite dismissal, but a dismissal, nonetheless.

Before moving on, the twins happened across a nearby snail farm, and were unable to resist checking out all the various types of snails, some of which weren't actually snails at all. Most likely, they were actually monsters that looked like snails, as one was counting money, another was speaking (though it didn't appear to be capable of saying much) and yet another looked nothing like a snail. Rather, it bore more resemblance to a jade green monster in a business suit who, for some reason, chose to lay on their side with a snail shell on their back.

In the next enclosure over, there were three snails waiting at the starting line of what appeared to a racetrack. "Snail racing?" Dipper mused. "That can't be too exciting."

He reached over the fence to brush the shell of the first one, becoming fascinated when it reacted in the manner of a perfectly normal snail and retreated back into its shell.

Somewhat agitated, since they now had an obligation to attend to the twins, as they'd now graduated from unexpected guests to potential customers, Napstablook materialized beside them, wondering if they'd like to try paying 10G for a snail race called, Thundersnail. Unfortunately, as Dipper and Mabel were trying to save up their money for emergencies, they had to decline the offer, but since there wasn't much business, as their main customer had suddenly stopped coming quite some time ago, Napstablook told them that in exchange for telling all their friends about Thundersnail, they could have a free race.

Mabel cheered, only to collapse to her knees a minute later when the yellow snail she was encouraging to win suddenly cringed and burst into flames, "Nooooo. Oh, cruel world, why would you take something so innocent? So pure?"

There was a soft, nearly inaudible chuckle, and Mabel turned sharply, shocked to see Napstablook with the line of their mouth upturned at the corners, their expression simultaneously fond and wistful. "…forgive my rudeness… it is just that you reminded very much of my cousin just then…" A fire extinguisher appeared in front of Napstablook, who promptly aimed the nozzle at the snail and put the fire out. "it seems you may have encouraged your snail a little too much…" After some hesitation, they asked, "…would you like to try again?"

At the start of her second attempt, Mabel resolved to say absolutely nothing. Regardless of whether the snail won or lost, she was sure it would do its best, and thus, she was determined to be satisfied with either outcome.

Dipper, who had recently revised his opinion on the normality of these snails, watched as their yellow snail fell farther and farther behind in the race. It seemed to be moving at a leisurely pace. Whether they won or lost didn't really matter to him, since they hadn't bet any money on the race's outcome, but it mattered very much to Mabel, in whom frustration mounted like magma, despite her attempts to rein it in. Through enormous effort, she managed to hold onto her restraint until the yellow snail had crawled all the way to about a foot before the finish line, only to seemingly stall, whereby she exploded, waving her arms and screaming at the snail to kick its shell into gear and _move_.

It promptly rolled over onto its back, and burst into flames.

* * *

"Come on, Mabel, it was a mistake. There was no way you could have known the snail would be so sensitive." Or flammable.

"I set it on fire, Dipper," she wailed. "Twice! Face it, I'm a monster!"

"It spontaneously combusted," he countered, lips twitching rebelliously as he offered a few consoling pats on the back. "And if you were a monster, which, by any definition of the word, you're not… there wouldn't be a better place for you than where we are right now."

It was both the play on words and the sentiment behind them that made her smile. Dipper lowered his arms, allowing her to swivel her body to face the entrance of the shop they'd strolled in front of. An elderly tortoise in an archaeologist's uniform waved, appearing not the least bit surprised to see them.

Assuming that he, like the others, was under the impression that they were visitors from out of town, and catching sight of some of the shopkeeper's merchandise, she grabbed Dipper by the arm and stepped past the entrance.

Inside the cave, stalagmites had grown so tall they nearly touch the pointed rocks protruding from the ceiling, and blue-white crystals, as well as purple tinted ones, radiated light in tight clusters, a natural source of illumination that was all the shopkeeper needed to see his costumers, though the keen sight of his youth remained merely in one bulging and yellowed eye.

Since they'd been seen and unintentionally made it clear that they were well aware that of the shopkeeper's existence, it'd have been suspicious if they'd just kept walking. At least, that's how Mabel rationalized this latest encounter, but in truth, it was the torn notebook lying within the clear glass casing that had really captured her interest.

It was stained, torn at the upper corner, its pages yellowed and curling at the sides, and so much more than Dipper had. Even the napkin from Grillby's had gotten soaked in the junkyard, its ink bleeding until the letters were barely legible.

And since this tortoise, who scratched his leathery, mottled green cheek with a curled claw, was more than happy to share some of the vast amount of information he'd accumulated over the centuries, Dipper was going to need someplace to put it all. Not even his super brain could remember everything.

"What's your name?" Dipper asked, looking at the elderly monster like he'd come straight out of a dream. Unlike a certain someone he could mention, this monster wasn't secretive or vague in the slightest. Instead of a spotty water fountain of information, one that was as likely to spray him in the face as it was to jam up and run dry, this was an endless stream, with no conditions attached… though it might have been nice if they bought one of the shopkeeper's items before they left.

"They used to call me Gerson, the Hammer of Justice, in my youth. But you whipper snappers can call me Gerson." His good eye shut in a conspiring wink. "It'll be heaps easier to get your tongue around, I'd imagine."

Mabel canted her head to the side. "Why'd they call you that?"

Gerson hesitated. "A hammer was my weapon of choice in the war." Picking up on the children's discomfort, he added, "My fighting days are long since over, though. Sure, I miss them every now and then, but overall, I'm really quite content to run my shop in peace."

"And what would you do if you did see a human?" Dipper asked with an air of forced nonchalance, trying his best not to convey anything beyond a mild interest.

With a low hum vibrating through the loose, flappy skin of his throat, Gerson considered the question. "I suppose I'd sell them my wares and be done with it. Like I said, boyo – my fighting days have long since past. The hero business is an occupation for the young, not this old museum piece."

After commenting earnestly that he didn't look a day over a hundred, Mabel asked Dipper if she could have a minute alone with the vendor. When asked why he needed to leave, she only answered that having him around when ruin the surprise. Wary of what she was planning, he glanced back at the case, registering the pair of opaque glasses with their round, colorful frames for the first, then wordlessly passed her the backpack. "Just make sure there's some left for us to buy food later, okay?"

"How much for the notebook?" She asked once Dipper was outside. There were teas and crab apples they could buy if there was any gold left over after she'd purchased the notebook, and if not, they could always find more, solve another puzzle or something, and then come back.

Beads of condensation dripped down the sides of the Sea Tea cans in big wet drops, and she forced down a dry swallow, suddenly very thirsty.

"That'll be 55 G," Gerson replied, holding out a weathered claw for the coins.

She shifted nervously, hearing the clink of the gold in her backpack. Since falling in the Underground, her and her brother had never paid for anything. The Innkeeper had allowed them to stay in her inn for free, Sans had offered to pay for their meal, and even Napstablook had waived their racing free for their first few tries, so it only made sense that they'd been able to get this far for a reason, and she was sure that the notebook sitting beneath the glass was it. "Would you be willing to bring that price down to 50G?"

Immediately, the tortoise monster's bushy white eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head, shifting the folds on his long, wrinkly neck. "I'm afraid these prices aren't up for negotiation, lass. Nothing less than 55 will do."

Ugh. Dipper usually handled these things… but… What kind of a surprise would it be if she called him back in to haggle for his own present?

"Actually, I changed my mind," she blurted suddenly, making as though to leave, "that notebook probably came from the garbage dump nearby here, right? On second thought, I think I'll pass."

With something akin to a frown tugging at the edges of his beak, Gerson planted his elbows on the glass and leaned forward. "I'll have you know, little girl, that this here notebook is an antique and, despite its appearance, currently in excellent condition."

"Oh yeah?" Mabel challenged. "Let me see."

Now that the reputation of his merchandise, and thus his shop, was on the line, Gerson reached into his case, carefully pulled out the notebook, and placed it on top. And Mabel played her part without fail, stepping forward to scrutinize the quality of the leather binding, as though checking for rot or bugs, then lifted it up, rotating it over and over in her hands, not failing to notice the scratch marks in the leather binding.

At long last, she announced that Gerson had been right – the notebook really was in good condition. Gerson huffed. "As though there were any doubt." Scratching his scalp with the handle of a magnifying glass, he added, "Now, if you don't mind, could you hand me that back? I'd like to put it away with the rest of my merchandise. Keep that particular item out in this humid air too long and those pages will peel right off the spine."

He held out a clawed hand, expecting her to obediently return his product. She didn't move. "Sure, you can have it back…" She smiled, sweet as an angel. "For 5G."

His good eye widened as realization sank in, followed by a slow grin that stretched from one cheek to the other. "You little scamp."


	19. Those Who Favor Fire - Part 1

Outside the cave, Dipper anxiously paced back and forth, one hand tucked behind his back while the other twisted at a loose lock of a sweat-soaked bang. Too restless to stay in place, he trod the same ground over and over, hoping the repetition would help to keep him distracted. It wasn't until Mabel walked out, looking proud and immensely satisfied, that his pacing came to a sudden, unbalanced stop.

Having expected to see her wearing those funky glasses he'd noticed before, the actual item pressed firmly and protectively against her chest was unexpected to say the least. She beamed, holding out the item for him to take, "It's for you!"

His gaze flickered dubiously from her to the item in her possession, taking in the deep scratches gouged out of the leather, the huge chuck torn out of the upper right corner, and the char marks radiating out from its center. When he hesitated, Mabel, growing impatient, thrust it at him.

Instinctively, his arms curled around it, stopping it from bouncing off the front of his shirt and suffering any further water damage, which might have dissolved what little glue was still holding its binding together. "Mabel, what were you…" He shook his head as though shaking off a thought. "Why did you get this?"

Without holding back her strength in the slightest, she prodded him in the chest. "Why else? It's for you, dummy!" When he still didn't understand, she sighed, "You've been wanting to write down nerd things and ask nerd questions, right?" That wasn't quite the way Dipper would have worded it, but yes. "Well, now you can!" Stroking her chin, she archly added, "But where ever will we find someone really old and smart?" She turned back to the cave, eyebrows shooting up as though seeing it for the first time. "Gasp!"

All the while, Dipper had struggled to keep a straight face. It was a losing battle, one which he surrendered with grace. "Okay, okay, I get it." A short laugh escaped him. "I was hoping to see what else he could tell me about this place, anyway." He reached out for the backpack, intending to use what was left of the money to stock up on some monster food, so as to prepare for any future obstacles that could be lying in wait for them… and one in particular that definitely was.

Unfortunately, once Mabel had unenthusiastically handed it over to him, he discovered that the bag was empty. There was nothing left. He stared at her in disbelief. "Why is there no money in this?"

"Well," Mabel glanced over her shoulder with an impish smile, "that notebook was a little out of our price range, but I, you know, managed."

Did he even want to know what mischief she'd gotten up to? Probably not.

He shifted the notebook to one hand so he could massage the bridge of his nose "Well, whatever you did to get this… Thanks."

Basking in his gratitude, Mabel gave him a quick hug, then gestured for him to get a move on and talk to Gerson. And though he made her promise not to take a single step from her spot, he wasn't exactly brimming with confidence when she nodded too quickly, her attention already drifting to something else.

But even _Mabel_ could stay in one place for five – ten minutes tops, right?

* * *

Now that the sight of the tortoise monster wasn't as distracting as it'd been, Dipper became aware of just how unpleasantly hot and humid the cave was. His shorts hadn't dried in the slightest since the trek through the junkyard, but that didn't mean the thought of sitting on wet rock was an appealing one.

Gerson lifted his head upon hearing him enter, grandfatherly amusement lurking beneath the surface of his wary gaze. "Don't suppose you're hear to buy something else?"

Pulling out a pen from his pocket, Dipper stammered, "N-no, sir! I'm actually here because I wanted to know more a-about the Underground's history." His voice raised an octave towards the end, making the statement come out like a question.

Regardless, Gerson nodded. "Oh? Is that so? Well, what would you like to know?"

Dipper stayed silent for a moment longer, as though gauging the monster's honesty, then his shoulders drooped as he relaxed, opening up like a night lily at the moon's touch. "Anything you'd be willing to tell me. I've got a ton of questions, you see, and I'd be so grateful if you could tell me more about this place- I mean…" He fumbled, scratching his head as he scrambled to come up with a phrasing that didn't make him sound like an overeager tourist when he was supposed to have lived in the Underground his whole life.

Waving the issue off with a warm chuckle, Gerson said, "Go ahead and shoot, boy-o. Let's see if these _old_ wits aren't up to the task." His gaze settled on a point past Dipper's shoulder, who upon hearing a quiet, startled _eep_ , turned around to see the silhouette of sister's head retreat out of sight.

"Sorry about that," Dipper muttered exasperatedly, "Restraint's not really her thing."

Gerson nodded. "Oh, she's a wild one, I'll give you that… 'suppose you're the one in charge of keeping her in check?"

"What?" Dipper reeled. "No, of course not!" Gerson gestured for him to settle down, insisting that he'd meant no offense. Dipper wasn't entirely sure that was true, but there was no telling when he'd get another chance like this to gather information. And not only could learning more about the Underground and its people help them find a way out, but if he could take home proof that monsters really did exist… then the kids at school, the teachers, and even his parents, would have to take him seriously. "What can you tell me about the king?"

"Ol' King Fluffybuns?" Gerson pondered how best to answer. "Well, he's as friendly as they come." That matched with what Papyrus had told them in Snowdin, but though Dipper kept silent on the matter, content to scribble the words down in his new notebook, he internally rejected the notion that a king who was willing to sacrifice kids to bring down the barrier could ever be anything but cruel. "I take it you're not going to ask me how he got that nickname?" Dipper looked up to see Gerson watching him closely, and swallowed.

"I was just getting to it, actually." He asked how the king had gotten his nickname, and Gerson squinted, scratching the side of his scalp with a long claw before finally admitting that he actually didn't remember.

After that, the conversation drifted towards the rune painted over the back wall of his cave. It was black circle with wings extending from its sides, and three triangles beneath it. It'd also been present on Toriel's clothes, and on the door exiting the Ruins, suggesting it must have held some great importance to the monsters, and thus, naturally, Dipper needed to know what it was.

He hastily drew a picture of the symbol, then set the empty backpack on the floor and sat on it, crisscrossing his legs and leaning forward, transfixed, as Gerson began to explain the prophecy behind the emblem of the Kingdom of Monsters, the Delta Rune.

Though he'd had a tendency to regress, often laughing at his own jokes, the tortoise monster sobered, staying focused on the topic at hand as he explained that the emblem was so old that no one knew what its true meaning, but the triangles symbolized the monsters, trapped underground, and the circle symbolized the angel, descended from the surface, that would break the barrier and lead the monsters to freedom.

The elderly monster trailed off into silence, looking oddly thoughtful before Dipper prompted him to continue. There was a heavy sigh. "There's another interpretation, of course, though I wouldn't say it's my personal favorite." He fixed Dipper with a piercing stare, the weight of it a garrote constricting around his neck. "Others seem to think that winged circle's the Angel of Death. A harbinger of death waitin' to 'free' us from this mortal realm. In my opinion, when I see that little circle…" All at once, his gaze softened, and Dipper could breath again. "I jus' think it looks neat! Wahaha!"

The next question came forth after a short period of silence. "Why not both?" Gerson appeared surprised that he hadn't shifted the conversation towards something else. Dipper cleared his throat. "You said it could be a savior or an Angel of Death, right? What it's not just one angel?"

Regarding the rune on his wall with a pensive air, Gerson countered that there was only one circle, but Dipper quickly suggested a burgeoning theory, which was that the circles were overlapping, the second one completely hidden by the first.

"Like they're identical?"

Ecstatic that he was keeping up with this new and purely hypothetical hypothesis, Dipper jerked his head up and down in a few rapid nods. There was no telling if the prophecy was anything more than a myth, a baseless fairytale passed through the generations to give the monsters hope that they may one day be saved, but it felt like he was on the verge of a breakthrough. "Yes! Exactly like that."

Casually leaning forward against the case, Gerson propped his head up on an elbow, his gaze never quite leaving the rune, though Dipper sensed that the old monster was more than peripherally aware of his presence. "So, if I'm understandin' you correctly, then what you're saying is the angels are something along the lines of twins? Is that about correct?"

"Y- _No_." Dipper's stomach dropped.

"Well, you can't save monsterkind and kill us all at the same time, sonny," Gerson continued, as though he hadn't noticed how bloodless his guest's face had become, gray as though he was either going to faint on the spot or bend over and be sick, "so if I had to guess… I'd say the angels would have to duke it out between themselves. And the winner, whoever that might be, would decide what would become of those lucky few of us who survived."

When a response was not forthcoming, he turned his yellow, bulbous eye back on Dipper, who could barely see through the black spots dotting his vision, and upon studying the subtle tremor in his fists, regret flickered through the elderly monster's expression, a gradually accumulated hardness falling away. "I didn't mean to scare ya, lad." The tips of his hooked claws clicked against the glass. "Personally, I think the whole thing's codswallop, but if, for argument's sake, we say you're right, and its two angels that descend from the surface… who's to say they can't both be the good guy?"

Dipper stared at the monster, jaw parted slightly, as the implications dawned on him, then realized his palms were sweaty and hastily wiped them on his shorts. Gerson had, for whatever reason, thrown out the dichotomy of the two theories entirely, instead opting to forego the role of Angel of Death so both of the angels could be the heroes. Or, perhaps, that wasn't exactly what he meant. Perhaps, the Angel of Death, when they came down to empty the Underground, didn't have to do what they were meant to do. Just maybe… they had a choice.

Still, Dipper sternly reminded himself that he was being ridiculous. Someone with a name as ominous and intimidating as that had to at least be able to do ten pull-ups in gym class.

After a time, the conversation turned to Gerson's helmet, a not-so-subtle change in topic that the elderly monster kindly pretended not to notice.

Taking it off for a moment, he allowed Dipper to touch the coarse material. Though Gerson supposed he mostly wore it because he enjoyed the look and feel of it, it served a functional purpose, too. Helped keep the occasional stalactite fragment from burying its way into his skull. Thus were the hazards of running a shop in a cave.

With a sweeping gesture, he launched into an explanation, which began with how, once upon a time, years before the war broke out, he'd loved to hike the trails through the mountains. It was a solitary hobby, to be sure, but the fresh air and the potent smell of the earth beneath his boots had always been enough company to keep him sated. What peaked his interest more than anything, though, were the treasures he found along the way.

Every object he discovered peeking out from a crevice in the rocks, every footprint left behind, told a story, and stories, when woven together, told the tale of history.

True, it wasn't always what most would consider treasure - he was as wont to bring home tattered clothes and old, abandoned furniture, as he was to bring back a diamond - but it was never the value of the object that mattered, so much as the feelings behind it. A pearl necklace was beautiful not only because of the purity of its shine, but because someone had once loved it dearly, and they, too, were loved by the person who'd tenderly placed the pearls around their neck.

He imagined them, sometimes. It used to be an escape, but since falling into the Underground, there was very little to escape from, besides the general ennui of being trapped in one place for so long, of course.

If there was one thing that could be said for the war, it was never boring.

"Do you miss it?" Dipper blurted. Realizing that the question might be construed as rude, a rosy blush reddened his face, and he attempted to stammer out an apology.

Gerson, however, cut him off before he could finish. "No need to apologize, sonny." A finger twirled around the strands of his wispy white beard. "In a sense, I suppose I do. Not the killing, mind you, but there were some interesting characters whose faces I can still recall, guys I could always count on to have my shell when it counted." He looked around, as though taking in everything he'd built, as though wondering if it was enough. "Running a shop may not be a bad way to live out my retirement, but that doesn't mean there's a day that goes by where I don't catch myself thinking back to that time, about the good... and the not-so-good."

Dipper shifted uncomfortably, as Gerson seemed to have almost entirely forgotten his presence, his swollen eye growing unfocused as it stared into the past, but he wasn't ready to let the conversation go just yet. "I like to find weird things, too," Dipper admitted. "That's my hobby. Someday, I want to publish a book about them." Maybe even start his own television show.

To his relief, Gerson's distant gaze refocused, settling on him. "Sounds like an impressive hobby to me."

"Right? I think so, too! But… not everyone agrees." It was such an awkward thing to say to a complete stranger that he lost track what he wanted to say next, and there was absolutely something he had to ask before he left, so he let the conversation falter. Silence hung densely in the humid air as he lowered his head, shoulders hunching forward. The backpack slid off his shoulder and all the way down his arm, until it finally caught on the ends of his fingertips. Slowly, he uncurled his hand, allowing it to fall. "Listen, this has probably been one of the best things to happen to me in a really long time, but I didn't come here to talk about my hobbies. The truth is… I need you to tell me if you've ever heard of a human being possessed before, by a monster or something like it." Even knowing that the question was suspicious, Dipper couldn't help but pin his hopes on the wise eccentric old man in front of him, as he went on to explain, in a round about way so whatever was inside him wouldn't interfere again, the annoying and obnoxious voice, the one that urged him not to trust anyone, to kill anything that posed a threat, the encroaching numbness, the sporadic outbursts and, perhaps most worrying, the periods of forgetfulness. The closer he and Mabel got to the exit, the more it felt as though snatches of time were being stolen from him.

He only remembered the dummy broken. He'd never seen it whole.

But if Mabel was right, and the whole thing was just messing with his head, then why did the damage look so recent? Why hadn't the stuffing spread further through the junkyard? How had it clung to the edge of his knife?

"What you're describing does remind me of something, actually." Dipper started, swinging around sharply to stare at the elderly monster, his hope a small, fragile seedling, bent and blown about by the storm, but still standing, still whole, and eager to grow. "If it were anything like the absorption of a human SOUL, then I suppose the monster could exert some form of resistance, but monster SOULs don't linger after death the way a human's would, so it's a moot point." There was something odd about the way he talked about it, as though he'd seen it before. Thinking of the plaque they'd seen before Undyne caught up to them, Dipper pictured the metal carving of the tortured, miserable creature it'd depicted, and wondered what happened to those monsters.

Did they ever return to normal?

Hands buried in his pockets, Dipper scuffed the floor with the tip of his shoe. "So, what you're saying is that even if a human were going through similar symptoms, it'd be impossible for them to absorb a monster, so it'd have to be something else?"

When Gerson confirmed that to be true, Dipper felt his legs turn to jelly, wobbly and unstable, until they simply gave out, and he fell to his knees, unaware of the rock shards pricking his skin.

Shivering, he drew his knees closer to his chest, no longer caring if anyone saw. Whether Gerson was there or not didn't matter. There was no one who could help him, no one he could rely on, and if that was the case, than he wished he'd never wandered into this cave. A false hope was something to hold onto, but what did he have now?

 _Nothing._

So absorbed was he in his own despair, that Dipper failed to notice the nervous glances Gerson was shooting him, his jaundiced eye swiveling from the exit where his sibling waited, to his huddled form on the floor, than back to the safety of his shop. There was a magic seeded deep in the walls of Underground, a protection for the merchants, but even magic as powerful as that had its limits.

With a grunt, Gerson stepped around his glass case, feeling the protective barrier tingle on his scales, before he broke the line between shopkeeper and customer, it dissipated, making him vulnerable.

Moving gingerly, as every ache and pain accumulated over the centuries protested with renewed volume, he made his way over to the boy, hesitated, then began engaging in the process of slowly lowering himself into a sitting position. "Look," he said, "you're a bright kid. I can tell."

Never raising his head, Dipper asked with a dullness that could almost be mistaken for apathy, "How?"

"Why, from experience! In my all years, you think you're the only bright spitfire I've come across?" He leaned towards the boy, as near as he could without touching him – for something so dangerous, he was such a little thing - and winked.

And though the boy didn't respond immediately, Gerson allowed him the time to gather his thoughts, and was eventually rewarded with an oddly vulnerable, "Not that bright." Then he shut up again, any lingering dullness sharpened into an acid that could have chewed away at the limestone, which would have been very bad for business, "Lately, I've done nothing but cause problems."

"Are you kidding?" Slapping his knee, Gerson let loose an uproarious guffaw, startling the boy, who turned to face him with an incredulous expression. Tapping the brim of his hat, Gerson said, "This old noggin hasn't gotten this much of a workout since an elemental stomped my shell at chess." When Dipper raised an inquiring brow, Gerson picked up his notebook, giving the cover a good smack with the back of his hand. "This here's valuable information I've been giving you, sonny. Sure you don't want to write it down?" Red flecks colored Dipper's cheeks as he sheepishly took the book back, turning open to the first weathered page so he could continue where he left off.

When he'd written down everything he could remember, he stood up, finally ready to move on. Plus, he hadn't heard any giggling or shuffling coming from outside for a few minutes and was starting to get worried. Joints creaking, Gerson tried to rise, too, but found rolling back onto his shell complicated matters.

He reached out. "A little help?" Swallowing back a snicker, Dipper grabbed ahold of his hand and forearm, hefting him to his feet with several grunts, though Gerson did his best to keep most of his weight off the boy. After the lovely conversation they'd had, it wouldn't do to accidentally crush him. Not when he was one of the good ones.

Once fully vertical, Gerson stretched, his spine popping back into place, while Dipper, doubled over, took a moment to catch his breath.

It was after he'd thanked Gerson for his hospitality and wisdom that the old tortoise felt it was the right time to return to his shop, but not before he set one more thing straight, "I imagine even an angel would be frightened if they fell into a strange new place," the boy's eyes widened with confusion, "but fear's what gives us the opportunity to be brave." Well, fear and something worth fighting for. After a minute, the confusion shifted into surprised realization, as Gerson had always known it would. He was, after all, a bright kid. "You two be careful out there, now." A soft smile stretched across the boy's face as Gerson struggled to keep his own stern. "I'd better catch you and that other little spitfire prancing around my shop again. Y'hear?"

Grateful, Dipper nodded, waved, and then dashed out, no doubt well on his way to rounding up his sister.

With a yawn that brought a tear to his eye, Gerson ambled towards the farthest point of his cave, hung a hammock from the stalactites, clambered into it, and began to snore.

...

* * *

Dipper found his sister sitting with her back pressed against the wall, breathing softly with her eyes closed, head tilted slightly to the side, as a light breeze brought with it the sounds of the river.

He couldn't believe it. She'd stayed.

Her lids fluttered open, blinking up at him as though staring into the sun. She scrubbed her face, a sleepy smile slowly curving her lips. "Hey, Dipdop. Time to go?"

Still utterly amazed that she'd done exactly as he'd asked, he helped her to her feet without a word, watching silently as she dusted herself. Though it was definitely uncomfortably warm in Waterfall, after a while, it became drowsy sort of heat, the kind that was perfect for napping on the porch at the tail end of a summer's day, and so it made sense that Mabel had to slap her cheeks a little to regain some semblance of alertness.

He left her to it, scouting ahead to find a few more of those black plaques. This time, he took notes, storing the information away for later, because as depressing as the historical accounts were, they was useful, and he was starting to get ideas, theories of how to break the barrier without the use of another soul, which merely left the question of how to free the monsters who wouldn't hurt anyone, and how to leave the rest locked up for good.

The captain of the Royal Guard, for instance, could stay underground and rot.

"A power equivalent to seven human souls," he muttered, chomping thoughtfully the tip of his pen. Where on earth could he find something like that?

Except they didn't need the equivalent of seven human souls, did they? They only needed one, and while he'd rather not use them, if casting a spell with the six souls the monsters already had got them out faster, then he and Mabel wouldn't have to worry about hunting humans, anymore. And it wouldn't matter that he'd thrown Toriel's phone into the river because they could see her and Papyrus and all the other monsters they'd befriended all the time on the surface.

A gust of wind tickled the back of his neck as Mabel bounded past, an exhilarated squeal exiting her lips. A whinny could be heard in the distance, followed by several deep grunts. It sounded like the seahorse monster from back when they'd talked to Shyren, but the wall they'd been following curved about two feet ahead from where Dipper stood, and without it, all that could be discerned in the distance was the seemingly neverending strip of tiled path, the sporadic patches of the Echo Flowers, and their subtle blue reflections in the cascading waterfalls. The flora was beautiful, to be sure, but it didn't provide enough illumination to see by.

With no monster food on them, Dipper knew that the last thing they needed was to be ambushed again, and so he glanced left and right before proceeding, searching for the telltale glint of light on metal, the fiery glow of a murderous glare.

Then the path itself petered out, coming to a complete stop at a line of luminescent grass. Beyond it, wet soil covered the ground, leaving Dipper to wonder they'd somehow gone in the wrong direction.

Blue stalks rose from the earth, their heads, holding the shape of frozen fire, stood tall - torches meant to guide the way. While Dipper struggled to come up with their next step – with no wall and no path, how were they supposed to know where to go? Did they just pick a direction and hope for the best? - Mabel hovered over by a cluster of mushrooms, fascinated by their spotted umbrella tops. Then she reached out to touch it.

It gave a mouse-like squeak, before lighting up like a cracked glow stick, casting into view the continuation of the swaying grass, thereby creating a new path for them to follow.

Problem was... it diverged.

Not sure which route to take at the crossroads, the twins unanimously decided to try the path on their right first. And if it didn't work out, they could always retrace their steps and try again.

It didn't take long for the mushroom squeezing necessary for their journey to turn into a game. Everytime they seemly hit a dead end, one of the twins would race to seek out a new cluster of mushrooms, squeeze their tops, and watch with satisfaction as more glowing grass appeared for them to walk on. In the complete darkness, the plants were all they could see, but fear, for the moment, was forgotten, replaced entirely by the wonder of this new place. As they rounded their third corner, Dipper sketched out a general diagram of the area.

Suddenly, his sister's arm shot out over his stomach, and he let out a surprised yelp, nearly tripping over himself. Looking up, he uttered an irritated, "What's the big idea, Mabel?" But she only pointed forward, looking vaguely disturbed.

Grumbling under his breath, Dipper turned to see what it was she was being so insistent about. It was the seahorse monster he'd thought he'd heard before. He was enthusiastically flexing, planting the occasional loving peck on his buff biceps.

"You really love do your muscles," Dipper noted wryly, alerting him to their presence.

"Do you work out?" Mabel clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of his rippling ten-pack. With an appreciative whistle, she said, "Pretty sure you do."

With a proud toss of his flowing locks, the seahorse monster straightened, his body rotating several inches above the ground before coming to a complete stop once they faced each other head-on. Luckily, he seemed to recognize them. "Woah!" He rumbled affably. "You dudes are Shyren's friends, right? Fancy meeting you here!" Rather than a hoof, he extended a five-fingered hand for them to shake, his eel-like tale in constant motion beneath him. "Name's Aaron, by the way. Don't think I mentioned that before."

Since this wasn't their first encounter, they didn't waste much time in wrapping their hands around his fingers, the only part of him thin enough for them to hold onto, and shake. "So, what brings you two out to my neck of the woods?" When they explained that they were traveling to the castle to see the king, Aaron appeared confused. According to him, the mushroom fields were usually pretty vacant (with the exception of someone or something called a Temmie), since riding in the Riverman's boat was a much faster and more efficient mode of transportation than stumbling around in the dark.

Upon absorbing that information, Dipper gritted out, "You mean we've walked all the way here, practically died several times… and all we had to do was take a _boat?!_ "

"Well," Aaron started with a nervous twitch of his tale, "the Riverman's shift doesn't actually start until later, and even if you wait, Undyne's got most of the Underground on lockdown. Unless she lifts it sometime soon, walking's probably your best bet."

Massaging his temples, Dipper agreed that it was, though walking's what they'd been doing from the start.

Sensing that he'd somehow soured the mood, Aaron offered to battle them in a heated flexing competition. It always managed to cheer him up on those rare occasions when his weight lifting goals went unmet.

Even so, he hadn't expected Mabel to jump so eagerly at the offer, her hand raised and waving as she hopped in place. "Oh, pick me! Can I go first? Pretty please!"

Thinking he might actually get out of having to show off his embarrassing noodle arms, Dipper breathed out a relieved sigh, content to let his sister handle this one. It wasn't really a battle, anyway. More like a contest.

Impressed by her grit, and with no plans of going easy on her, Aaron stepped forward, veins bulging from his neck like thick roots as he flexed his triceps, biceps, pectorals, deltoids, and some muscle groupings that appeared to pop into existence purely for his benefit, all of which were an inspiring and unforgettable sight to behold.

Internally, Dipper swore that he would start taking gym class seriously when they got home. He'd set up an entire work out regiment if he had to. Anything to look a quarter as manly as Aaron did.

Sweat pouring down his mane, Aaron snorted, shaking off drops of sweat, which imbued the air with a salty tang, reminiscent of the sea. At the same time, the tempo of his tail's flicks increased, evolving into steady beats powerful enough to shift the loose dirt and pebbles at their feet.

As Mabel rolled up her sleeves, a fierce grin spreading across her features, Dipper filed away that particular bit of information, storing it in case it came in handy.

For her first move, she planted her feet like a sumo wrestling, and for her second, knocked her fists together, then screamed out a wordless challenge, confident that the key to winning any battle was guts, determination, and several hours of knitting a day.

Dipper noticed some slight definition in her upper arms, which was certainly more than most girls their age could boast, but no evidence to support the insane amount of strength she possessed. Although he'd seen Mabel outside of sweaters many times before, it never actually stopped him from picturing her with the body type of a pro wrestler.

Regardless, Aaron acknowledged the flex with a satisfied wink, thoroughly impressed by the performance, and flexed twice as hard.

Mabel couldn't flex much harder than she already was, and so increased the volume of her grunting instead, figuring that it was much the same thing, anyway, and Aaron increased his efforts once more, his veins looking about ready to burst as his tail began to whip around wildly.

When even Mabel's seemingly boundless strength and stamina began to flag, Dipper appeared at her side, flexing his spindly arms with a smirk and a challenge. "Is that all you got?"

After a curious, sidelong glance, Mabel rolled her shoulders, redoubling her efforts with a scoffed, "Is that all I got, he says."

"Two against one? Nice!" Palms pressed to his stomach, Aaron let out a deep belly laugh, before adding with a wink, "I'm not going to lose, though."

Together, their hearts pumped oxygenated blood furiously to their limbs, perspiration pouring from their foreheads, streaming in rivulets down their trembling frames, until Aaron's tail flailed so hard and fast that it rocketed him towards the cavern's ceiling, effectively putting their competition on hold.

As he shrunk to a little white dot over their heads, Mabel waved jovially, calling out, "Hey! No hard feelings, right?" To Dipper, she added in a hushed, somewhat distressed tone, "Do you think we need to tell someone?" Her arms flailed in a panic. "I don't know how to fly, Dipper!"

After giving it some thought, Dipper shook his head. He wasn't worried. Even without help, it wasn't like Aaron could keep floating up forever.

The barrier would have to stop him, at some point.

* * *

 **A/N: Didn't quite get as far as I was hoping to, but it's been about a month since the last chapter, and uploading this first half should hopefully gain me some breathing room with the second half. Admittedly, the Gerson portion probably could have stood on its own, but who doesn't love a little Aaron?**


	20. Those Who Favor Fire - Part 2

What Dipper couldn't even begin to fathom was just how nonsensical the majority of the Underground's inhabitants were. In the face of the cute, fuzzy cat-like beings brushing against his ankles with the tips of their floppy ears, it was nearly impossible to keep any sort of guard up. _This_ was what they were supposed to be afraid of?

It was so… cuddly.

They must have taken a wrong turn at the start. After that first left, they'd spent a few minutes gleefully activating the mushrooms, progressing as far left as the path would allow until a wall blocked their way. It was cracked and rough from age, a fact they couldn't help but be aware of as they ran their hands over its cool surface, searching for any give or opening that they might be able to take advantage of. Their focus was such that they didn't truly notice the brightening of their surroundings or the secludedness of the new section they'd accidentally entered until a floppy-eared catlike creature padded towards them on little white paws. Then another. And another.

With faces like round, white moons, they'd observed the newcomers with blatant curiosity, hardly a trace of suspicion to be found. In his thoughts, Dipper was reluctantly reminded of a deer standing fearlessly before a hunter, untroubled by the sight of an instrument it'd never seen before.

Hidden away in their small, secluded village, the Tem were detached from the troubles of the Underground. A majority of them had been too young when the barrier was raised to recall much of the surface, and as such, those who recognized the children for what they were bore little ill will - the Underground was as much their home as the surface had ever been - and as those who didn't, they became instantly attached.

One such Temmie pawed playfully at Dipper's sock, its tiny claws catching on the loops in the fabric, and he knelt to scratch it behind the shorter, tipped ears at the top of its head, a happy, light feeling blooming inside him at the purr rumbling through its torso. With a contented sigh, the Tem rolled onto its back, casually revealing its belly in a show of boundless trust, and he obliged the unspoken request, thinking back to the many pet ideas their parents had shot down.

Maybe it was an argument worth rehashing. Not immediately, of course, but eventually. Mabel could work some of her magic with the emergency waterworks and Dipper could contribute to the cause by drawing up a pie chart (Or maybe a bar graph… Whichever one said, 'We are mature, practically teenagers, and we'd very much like something to love) to serve as proof that kids entrusted with the responsibility of taking care of pets in their developmental years often did better academically than those whose parents committed the absolute injustice of banning pets from the house. He would still have to conduct some research to ensure that was actually the case, but even if it wasn't, there was bound to be some other benefits he could use to sway them to their side.

As he turned over the possibilities, Dipper's gaze roamed over the portrait of a ferocious looking leviathan, its head rising from the sea, its maw opened wide, forever frozen in the middle of its powerful roar… and next to it, one of the silly creatures lounging near the entrance was painted standing atop the serpent's back.

 _hOI,_ The sign at the entrance read, _welcom to TEM VILLAGE!_

Unfortunately, the Tems had to go and try to converse when, with the exception of the resident odd one out, Bob, all spoke with the poor grammar reflected in their sign, said little of substance, and repeated the same introduction over and over again with only some minute differences. Having endured three such requests to say hello to Temmie, a name all of the Tems shared (again, with the exception of Bob), Dipper massaged the bridge of his nose with a low groan, "What life choices do you think led me to this place? Because, right now, I am regretting _all_ of them."

"Oh, stop being a baby." Mabel chastised from the kneeling position she'd assumed. She was waiting patiently for one of the Temmie to amble close enough for her to pluck them off the ground, drop them on her lap, and thoroughly cuddle. It was taking longer for them to approach her, possibly due to her trembling from the effort of keeping still. For her, suppressing the urge to simply leap joyously at the nearest Tem was practically torture.

When such behavior was employed with normal cats, though, it often ended poorly, with her cheeks scratched and her hair disheveled and fur all over her clothes, but these weren't quite cats, and they weren't quite dogs, so who knew how it would turn out?

For a time, the Temmies gave her a wide berth, always staying just out of arm's reach but, before long, a Temmie standing by the _gigantic marble statue_ of another member of their species, cautiously approached her from behind. When they got close enough, they curiously sniffed Mabel's hair, while she concentrated on remaining perfectly still.

The Tem brushed up against her arm, their stubby tail wagging vigorously as they purred. "Tem think you cute, Human." Alarmed, Dipper stiffened. "Tem want pets!"

Uttering a delighted cry, Mabel scooped up the Tem in her arms, holding it close, until the long, translucent strands of fur at the tips of their ears tickled her chin, and she happily scratched their head and back, careful not to scratch too hard or too close to the tail. Most of the animals she'd tried to play with in their old neighborhood always hated that. And they were very vocal about it, too.

Once Dipper was certain she'd be alright on her own with the little furballs, who appeared to be pretty much harmless and most definitely not inclined turn them in to the Royal Guard or, alternatively, maul them to pieces, although appearances could be deceiving, and it was weird that they knew…

He shook his head.

No, he wasn't being paranoid. He'd been careless in the past. It wasn't going to happen again.

Certain she wouldn't notice with so much of her attention devoted to the Tem squirming under her fingertips, Dipper flashed a brief grin, watching discreetly as she cooed, her now steady hands stroking and petting from the nape of the Tem's neck to their lower back, repeating the movement until both of them settled into the pattern, and a tranquility entered the scene. With a contented sigh, the Tem found a crook in Mabel's lap, circled the spot, and then plopped into it, their lids falling shut with a small yawn. The action surprised Mabel, and she paused with her hand hovering over them, uncertain, but then the Tem pressed their cool nose against her skin, their eyes beseeching, and she resumed, pressing a palm against her mouth to muffle the sound of surprised but pleased laughter.

Satisfied that nothing was amiss, Dipper left her to her own devices as he ambled past the shop, finding two more of the silly creatures who didn't come to greet them, though that count didn't include the one which stared creepily out from a gaping hole in the wall.

"Do you mind?" Dipper complained when the voyeuristic Temmie turned its unblinking gaze on him.

"Tem not mind." The Tem replied calmly. "Tem has hobby."

Unsettled, he stepped back with a shudder, and nearly bumped into the monster behind him.

It bore an uncanny resemblance to a fungus, with a spotted top that drooped on one side like ice cream melting out of a cone, and a slender white stalk, which sunk beneath the floor, down to the soil, where Dipper guessed it must have been getting its nutrients. If it weren't clearly frowning at him, Dipper would have assumed it was merely a very large mushroom.

Upon realizing it was being watched, it bobbed along to an unheard rhythm. "Mushroom dance," it repeated. "Whatever could it mean?"

Bemused by its antics, and beginning to grow weary of the Underground's more whimsical denizens, Dipper dismissed the monster with a shrug, moving to check out the shop. It was probably a rhetorical question, anyway.

As abruptly as it'd started, the sound of dancing stopped, signaling the monster suddenly going very still, and then, from behind him, Dipper heard it solemnly say, "It means you've lived a life of sin."

His eyes went wide, mouth opening in a silent question as his thoughts screamed at him to grab Mabel and run. But there was no way this monster could've known what happened to the dummy – even he wasn't completely sure – and the Froggit had died in the Ruins. If the sentient fungi couldn't even leave its spot, then how could it possibly know anything about anyone?

It was lying. It had to be.

However, there was no way of knowing for sure, for when Dipper tried to interrogate it, tossing barbed questions at it from every angle he could think of, it refused to say anything more, twisting away every time he edged too close, and eventually, with a quiet hiss of frustration, he was forced to back off. But before he could call Mabel, tell her they were leaving, he was suddenly beset by the strangest sensation of being roughly tossed aside, as though the reins to his own mind had been violently snatched away. Before he could analyze the sensation further, however, he was distracted by the horror of his mouth opening on its own, tongue working against his will as an oily distortion of his own voice whispered, " _A life of sin? That's such a gross understatement, it's hilarious. You think_ _humans are something to be afraid of? They're walking meat sticks, bumbling sacks of liquid and bone. Want to know what's scarier than being trapped down_ _here with a homicidal human?_ " Locked inside his own mind, watching helplessly as the monster began to tremble, Dipper felt stabs of pain in his cheeks as his mouth stretched too wide, the corners feeling as though they were seconds away splitting into an open wound. " _Being trapped down here with ME!_ "

Before the threat could draw too much attention, Dipper's consciousness came surging back to the forefront, and he sagged, gasping for breath. Already, the memory of the experience was fading, though he desperately clawed at it, mentally gripping it even as it slipped away, like thrusting his hands into a sand castle to keep it from being washed away by the waves crashing against the shore. But even after the details had faded entirely, blurring into a nightmarishly baseless sense of despair, there was no changing or denying what was right in front of him.

Trapped by its roots, the mushroom monster quaked, staring at him with the stark, heart-pounding terror of an animal caught in a trap.

Funny. It looked almost as scared of him as he was.

"Just now," he clenched his fists, not even truly expecting an answer as he forced down the uncomfortable lump blocking his throat, "what did I just-"

"Dipper?"

He jerked towards the sound, with too much speed, too much violence, to see Mabel staring back at him. He could see the same confusion and uncertainty swirling through her, the same exhaustion and pent up frustration, like looking in a mirror. Both of them want to speak, to say anything, but hesitated, leaving the unspoken questions to tear through the space between them with the ferocity of lightning striking the earth, the image so vivid in Dipper's mind he could practically smell the ozone.

He wasn't sure what he expected her to do, whether she might shout or cringe, all he knew for sure was that she wouldn't run. Gradually, her initial look of shock faded, morphing into one of grim, quiet contemplation, as she bent to carefully and deliberately lift the Tem from her lap, aiming to set them down nearby until they grew impatient enough to wiggle out of from her grasp and jump the remaining distance, landing deftly on all fours. With nary a backwards glance, they shook themselves, plodding away to rejoin the others, and she watched them go, thoughtful, her eyes keeping track of the Tem that had come to greet her as they melded into a crowd of identical white faces, their coats shining and rippling as they stretched.

After a short time, she climbed to her feet, brushed off the silvery strands of fur sticking to her skirt, and crossed a distance too far to reach across in several long strides, sidling up next to him with a solid resoluteness that stole his words, and with a quick apology to the petrified sentient fungi, "So sorry to interrupt, but I'll just be taking my brother out to get some fresh air," which was a ridiculous thing to say because, unless they somehow teleported back to the surface upon exiting the village, there was no fresh air, though that didn't stop her from essentially spiriting him away, dragging him out of sight and out of ear shot with enough speed and strength to literally lift his shoes off the ground as he struggled to keep up without tripping, and when the world came back into sharp focus, it was to find that he was tucked safely behind the dividing wall between the village and the mushroom field, with Mabel doubled over, panting as she worked on catching her breath. "It's okay," she huffed. "It's just you and me here. Welcome to the judgment-free zone."

She straightened, steel in her spine, metal in her heart. "You want to tell me what was going on back there, Dipdop?"

He blinked dully at her, his mind a lazy caboose chugging around the corner to catch up with the train. Finally, he swallowed. "What did I- What did you hear?"

"Not much," she admitted, "I wasn't paying attention the whole time and you were talking kind of low, but from where I was sitting, it kind of looked like you were getting ready to eat the poor fungus."

Lost for words, he let out a strained laugh, raw and wet and painfully rough. Past the wall, there was the dull thud of claws as the village's inhabitants shifted with apprehension, their hackles rising as though sensing a storm, and he shoved a fist between his teeth. He bit down, peeling the skin pinch.

Alarmed, Mabel grabbed his arm and yanked it away. Stopping just short of shaking him, she firmly gripped him by the shoulders, refusing to let him go. "Back in his shop," she began, grasping for straws, anything to distract him, "what did Gerson say to you?"

Giggling weakly, Dipper said, "What are you asking me for? Didn't you listen in on the whole thing?"

She shook her head. "Nope. You took too long and I fell asleep, remember?"

He tried to focus, thinking back to the scent of freshly brewed tea, a chest full of mothballs, and the unmistakably sweet odor of yellowing pages, cracking leather, and aging resin wafting from the variety of bound maps, manuscripts, and history books the old man must have collected over the years. "He said I was bright."

An amused snort drew him back to the present. "Well, I could have told you that," Mabel told him, dryly.

He rolled his eyes, already feeling more like himself, as he slid unconsciously back into the banter that was so familiar, so routine, it was practically a piece of home. "He also said that monsters couldn't possess humans."

Confused, Mabel blinked. "Did I miss a memo? Since when was that on the table?"

"It just sort of came up." He confessed, not really wanting to get into how much brain power he'd spent brainstorming and subsequently rejecting various theories, though that usually took a backseat to the somewhat all consuming _imminent fear of death_. "With that out, though, I'm completely and utterly out of ideas. Not only do I have no idea what's going on, but I've got no leads, no clue how to fix this, and it's only getting worse. I know you think I can handle this, and after pep talk five or six or fifty, I thought so, too. I really did, Mabel, but…" Gently, he tried to pry Mabel's fingers of him. His shoulders were beginning to hurt, anyway. "Maybe we were both wrong."

Beyond a rather stern pressing her lips, Mabel barely reacted, leading Dipper to wonder if maybe she hadn't heard, but then she jabbed him in the chest, hard, her brown eyes narrowing into threatening slits, "Well, I'm not. We've still got Sans' friend in Hotland to talk to. And I've got plenty of other ideas, lots of them, and if worst comes to worst," she sucked in a deep breath, "I'll wrap you up in bubble wrap and lug you out of here myself."

"Wait…." She stroked her chin, then enthusiastically jumped and pumped a fist, ignoring Dipper's growing apprehension. "That's it!"

"What's it? You're not actually considering wrapping me up in bubble wrap, are you?"

"Huh? Nah, that's like Plan… G." The scary part was he wasn't even sure she was joking.

Still, she seemed really hyped about whatever it was she'd thought up, so he bit back an exasperated retort, deciding to hear her out, "You didn't start acting all cray-cray until after we fell down here, right?" To the best of his knowledge, that was accurate, but it was hard to take his own observations seriously when the influence had since shown itself capable of both invading his thoughts and altering his memories. For something like that, the best observations had to come from an outside party. "Forget what Gerson said. He doesn't know what's going on with you, so how can he possibly know what isn't?" Without pausing for breath, she plowed on ahead, speaking faster, as though the thought would disappear if she didn't voice it, didn't make it real. And if she made it real, then maybe it would be true. "You've been so worried about leaving, but what if the only reason you're not getting better is because you're still here? If we can get you past the barrier, I'm positive you'll be right back to being 100% concentrated Dipper."

She stopped, breathing hard, her eyes gleaming with a desperately clinging hope and the slightest edge of something manic, and waited for him to speak. Gripping the front of his shirt in a fist, Dipper realized how wrong he'd been to think that he'd been the only one suffering all this time.

Whatever it took to figure this out, he'd find a way.

For both their sakes.

And if things didn't work out, if after he left the barrier, there were still black outs, if the series of misfortune hanging around him like a disease, infecting everyone around him, never went away despite all their best efforts… Then he'd figure that out, too. One step at a time.

For now, his top priority was staying levelheaded.

"Okay," Dipper said finally, imbuing as much gratitude as he could into the two short syllables, and she gradually relaxed, melting a little from the relief that came with knowing he wasn't going to ask her to leave again, which was frankly ridiculous. He wasn't going to ask her to walk the Underground alone when there was a monarch after their souls and a crazy person out for their blood.

Actually, on that note, there was something they had to do before they left for good.

Dipper marched back into the village, politely excused himself past the Tems that were ardently hoping for some additional pets in their future, entered the shop, looked up at the Tem manning the shop (or rather, manning the cardboard box with the words, 'Tem Shop' painted on its side in yellow and light blue paint), fished out the empty satchel from his backpack, and said, "I want to sell this."

It was only after he'd already said that he realized there was really nothing in the shop to buy. Certainly no monster food like he'd been counting on to tide them over until they reached the surface, but there was a giant bone, a shimmering pink potion, a stick that looked suspiciously like the one he'd tossed into the river, stockings nailed to the wall, a trash can, and a framed picture of the annoying dog that stole their treasure standing on top of a stack of boxes marked 'Tem Flakes' in the same scribbled handwriting as the painted makeshift podium.

Though their head never moved, their facial features lowered themselves to get a better look at the bag he was offering, which was thoroughly disturbing and defied just about every law of nature that ever existed. Shuddering, Dipper looked over his shoulder to witness Mabel's efforts to emulate the Tem by crossing her eyes until they each pointed in the general direction of her nose.

"WOA!" The Tem's brows skyrocketed up their forehead, beads of sweat dripping down their cheeks. "U gota… empti bag!" There seemed to be some sort of internal struggle going on. "Hnnn… I gota have dat empti bag… but I gota pay for colleg…"

So, the monsters really did go to college. Naturally, that would also include the goat monsters.

Concealing his mouth with the palm of his hand, Dipper pretended to deliberate over the deal, when really he was allowing himself a small smile, as he basked in the satisfaction of knowing he'd been right about the monster's educational system from the beginning. It was a small victory, and it really didn't amount to much in the long run, but it buoyed him, pushing him to strive for another.

The Tem was willing to part with 40G for the satchel, more than enough to purchase some monster food,, but if they _really_ wanted it, then he might be able to push his luck a little. Better to be overly prepared than the alternative, right?

"I don't know," Dipper said with a drawl, feigning disinterest. "That price seems awfully low to me." Behind him, Mabel nodded fervently, her grin a little too wide and eager to pass for a cool customer, but it felt good to have her support.

Prices in the Underground were confusing, as purchasing a beverage cost only a little less than a notebook, though that could have been due to the healing properties inherent in all the food, and since he didn't want to raise the price so high that it annoyed the Tem, he settled for an asking sum of 50 G. It wasn't much more, but it'd fully make up for the money Mabel had spent buying the gift she'd picked out for him.

And the owner of the shop hemmed and hawed, agonizing over decision like their education hung in the balance, and just when it seemed like the deal was clenched, like he'd finally brought home a victory for Team Pines, proven that he wasn't just dead weight that his sister had to carry, Mabel blurted on impulse, "Actually, can we get it for a 100?"

Though their cheerful mask never slipped, the Tem's demeanor instantaneously cooled. They extended a single paw, pushing the satchel back across the counter with their toe nubs, and then calmly, clearly, and with flawless pronunciation, warned, "You will regret this."

Under normal circumstances, such a blatant threat would have had Dipper packing up his stuff and leaving in a heartbeat, but these circumstances were far from normal, so he pushed the issue, refusing to budge until the Tem took enough pity on them to reiterate the original offered sum. Due to their hurt pride, it wasn't up for negotiation, but Dipper leapt at the chance, anyway.

The trade went without a hitch, the satchel for the gold coins, and Dipper stuffed the coins into the front pocket of their backpack, satisfied with the metallic clinks he could hear as he shrugged it over a shoulder.

Despite the Tems that waved goodbye, Mabel was sullen when they finally exited the shop, a shadowing falling over her as she trailed behind and Dipper marched ahead. At one point, he turned around to make certain she was still following, catching the wistfulness with which she watched the village's entrance fade into the darkness. Spotting him staring, she hooked her thumbs into her skirt, hunched her shoulders, and averted her eyes. "Sorry about the deal, Dipper." Biting her lip, she added, "I really didn't mean to mess it up for you, I just…"

"Got excited," he finished. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't even the tiniest bit upset, it wasn't like they'd come out of the encounter with nothing. Sure, it was less than they could've had, but they'd make do. "We just have to be extra careful, that's all." The mushrooms from before were still activated, illuminating the dirt trail they'd followed before. Not waiting to hear her response, he said, "It's not a big deal," and walked away, unaware of the brief hesitance that passed before soft, padding footfalls accompanied his own.

* * *

A monster they'd never seen before was waiting outside of Gerson's shop when they returned, and they ducked out of sight, taking in the fluffy tan fur sprouting from his round snout like a voluminous beard, as well as the long, drooping white ears pressed nervously against the sides of his head. It wasn't what he looked like, though, but rather what he wore that made them reluctant to come out of hiding.

Golden gauntlets strapped to his wrist, a chest plate molded into the Delta Rune glowed with a crimson stone imbedded in its center, and a flowing lavender cape enhanced the regal presence presented by his bearing, his thick, curved horns, and his towering height. Still, in contrast to that, he fidgeted uncomfortably outside the cave, clicking his claws together in a manner that suggested he was either stalling or grasping for an excuse not to go in. Finally, he squared his shoulders, ducked so his crown wouldn't scrape against the ceiling, huffed, and awkwardly squeezed inside, leaving Mabel and Dipper to consider their options.

"He… looked kind of similar to Toriel, didn't he?" Though there was no denying that he bore a resemblance, nor that the crown was a dead give away, Dipper felt he wasn't ready to face the king just yet. Actually, it'd be better if they could avoid him at all costs.

Taking the souls of children had been his _brilliant_ plan to begin. How could he think he even had the right to walk around his kingdom so casually when kids were being hunted down and murdered under his orders? When someone he was supposed to love spent her every waking minute mourning them?

It didn't make any sense.

 _Buddy, guys like that… ought to know how it feels to be hunted down without mercy._

Dipper jolted, standing too quickly, tottered to the side, blinking black spots out of his vision, and then broke into a run, heading away from the shop, back into the fields.

Mabel sprinted after him, shouting for him to wait, but he couldn't, not for a second. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. If he stopped, he'd regret it, and so they raced through the illuminated path, Mabel quickly outpacing him so she could light up more mushrooms with a hard tap as she passed, revealing the route so her brother wouldn't accidentally run himself straight into a wall.

That was how they streaked into the next section to find that their supply of luminous flora had suddenly dried up. An impenetrable darkness concealed the path, erasing everything beyond a single hanging lantern, and as they passed it, Mabel hooked a finger under Dipper's shirt collar, keeping him from running blind. "We need a plan," she hissed through her teeth, ignoring the dirty look he shot her as she impatiently gestured towards the plaque glowing behind them. "You want to get through this fast, right? Then put your thinking cap on and tell me how we're gonna do it."

Chest heaving with exertion, Dipper fixed her with a hard look before twisting out of her grasp, and took a step forward, creating some space between them so there'd be room for him to breath.

It was so hard to focus, so hard to even pinpoint where one thought ran into the next, but eventually the endless stream slowed into something coherent enough to work with. "That guy back there?" He said, keeping his voice low. "He's the king. He has to be. And if he catches us, he won't hesitate to kill us so, right now, the best thing we can do right now is run as far and as fast as we can in the opposite direction."

"And how do we do that?" Mabel demanded, not letting up for a second.

Dipper gaped at vague outline of her shape, silhouetted against the pulsing glow of the script behind her.

He was calming down now, no longer propelled solely by the fight or flight instinct entrenched in his genes, his hands hanging loose, fists gradually unclenching at his sides. After giving the carved writing a quick perusal, he decided that the answer was simple enough, there was no reason why Mabel couldn't figure this out by herself, yet she was insisting on making him do it, refusing to even look at the plague until she was sure he'd finished reading it… Why?

What was it about his input that was so important?

Spotting a sliver of blue reflecting off a pane of glass, Dipper took several large strides, stopping only when his groping hand grasped a solid cylinder. Curious, he felt along its edges, turning the first knob his fingers stumbled upon, and the field lit up with from the sudden radiance of large, jagged amethysts, revealing the strands of grass they were following were bordered intermittently by even more lanterns and crystals.

Flashing him a brief, proud smile, Mabel skipped forward to the next lantern, light and weightless, and when the gems began to dim, Dipper fiddled with the knob again, and they burst into life.

He directed Mabel to stay at her lantern while he moved ahead, then he hurried past her, reached the next lantern, and waved her ahead.

She raced past with a salute, and through that system of stops and goes, the darkness lost its power. Working together, they made short work of the gem field, and though the path was winding and, at points, even baffling, never once were they lost.

* * *

Halfway through, a Tem in a blank white shirt leapt to intercept them.

It shook violently, begging for food, though the word came out slightly garbled, and Dipper stepped towards it, turning out his empty pockets with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, but we don't have any."

Instead of stepping aside to let them pass, the hungry creature swiped at them, its claws stopping just shy of raking his ankles due to his reflexives kicking in at the last second.

"That's no way to ask someone for a favor!" Mabel wagged a finger, chiding the monster as though it were a small child. It zipped through her legs, knocking one out from under her.

Dipper latched onto an arm to keep her from falling, grousing, "Either this one's on a sugar rush or it's caffeine levels are off the charts."

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Dipnip." Squaring her shoulders, Mabel straightened, trying to make herself look taller, more intimidating. "Listen here, you adorable fiend, you can't just attack everyone who doesn't have food. It's wrong and it's very rude!"

The Tem stiffened. "No!" It cried, leaving Mabel to wonder if perhaps she'd been too harsh with it. Beside her, Dipper was unexpectedly clutching his stomach, apparently struggling not to laugh. "Muscles are gross!" Her eyes flickered from the Tem to her brother, brows raised in confusion, until it finally dawned on her, directly before the Tem scampered away, that they hadn't been staring at her at all, but at a point just over her shoulder.

Sighing in defeat, Mabel said, "There's something behind me again, isn't there?"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Dipper nodded, and she turned to see Aaron flexing his muscles proudly, his fins twitching in amusement.

They thanked him for the help, relieved that he'd managed to find a way down, though the stallion claimed that the force of gravity simply loved him too much to ignore his gorgeous body for long.

This seemed like a reasonable explanation, or as reasonable as it could be coming straight from the horse's mouth. And though Mabel offered to spar again, Aaron regretfully declined. "Shyren hardly needs a ridiculous guy like me around, but it'd take a weight off my mane if I went back and checked on her."

Since they likely weren't going to see him again, Mabel rushed forward, wrapping her arms around as much of his torso as she could. The pungent scent of seaweed and sweat overwhelmed her senses. In contrast, the hands on her back were unexpectedly gentle. "Hey, don't go treating this like it's some kind of goodbye. We'll see each other again."

His words only served to make Mabel squeeze him tighter as Dipper looked on, silent, concerned, but she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, muttering against his silvery coat, "Definitely. We'll definitely see each other again."

And she released him, furiously wiping a sleeve over her eyes. While she collected herself, Dipper stepped forward to shake the increasingly confused stallion's hand. "Take care of yourself," he said solemnly, an unmistakable goodbye. "Shyren's lucky to have such a good friend."

"We're both lucky," Aaron flicked his tail unhappily. "I know we've really just met, but you know you're our friends, too, right?"

Looking far older than his twelve years, Dipper nodded, took a step back, and wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders. She'd lowered her to head in a doomed effort to conceal how miserable this was making her feel, how wrong this all was, and since Aaron couldn't bring himself to leave them like that, they went on ahead, the gems slowly dimming until it became unavoidably apparent that both of the children were both gone, the unforgiving darkness filling in all the empty spots where they used to be.

* * *

The twins each gave a surprised yelp as the dry ground disappeared from under them, river water suddenly swallowing them up from the waist down.

It wasn't like their clothes had ever dried from their last excursion in the river, but the sensation of mud squelching under their soaked shoes was as undesired as it was incredibly unpleasant.

At least it was over quickly, as they stepped easily from the strait and onto solid, dry land in less time than it took for them to complain about getting wet again.

A subtle luminescence in the distance revealed a small Echo Flower, which they immediately approached, having grown used to and even fond of their blue light and soft, wispy voices, and the myriad of secrets they held.

Stroking a single petal, Mabel bent down to position an ear as close to the bud as possible, in case the reason this one was being so silent was because it was shy. Its petals fluttered.

 _ **Behind you.**_

Mabel stumbled back, reeling, looking up to see if her brother had heard the words, and getting her answer when her gaze locked on the unnatural pallor of his skin, the glints of gold burrowing out of his dark brown eyes.

She knew what was coming even before the armored knight appeared, her mouth going dry as Dipper's face transformed into a hardened scowl, his body leaping in front of her with silver gleaming like an extension of his fist, and however frightening Undyne was, however the mere sight of her made Mabel want to tremble, memories of falling, of pain and pain and _pain_ crashing through her mind, it was nowhere near as horrifying as the fit of cruel laughter that erupted from her brother, as the sneer curling his lips.

If she could stand, she could stop this. If she could stand, she could do anything. Struggling to her feet, Mabel reached out, fighting against the instinct that told her not to touch, not to move. Sane, insane, it didn't matter. He was still her brother.  
"Hey, Dipper-"

Ignoring her, Undyne closed the distance in several strides, a beast cornering its prey, "Seven. With the power of seven human souls, our king… King Asgore Dreemurr… will become a god."

"Sorry to break this to you." Blade raised and hungrier than it'd ever been, Dipper braced himself, cutting into the monologue with, "but I seriously doubt he'd make a decent god. He doesn't even make a decent king."

Taking a huge step forward, the armored figure trembled with rage, "You, who have lived a blessed life, could never understand the suffering we have endured to get this far, nor the suffering our king has endured for the sake of our hope."

"Yeah, I know." Sarcasm dripped like poisoned honey. "Killing kids must have been really awful for you."

"You're throwing away your chance at redemption," Undyne continued through gritted teeth. A spear appeared in her hands, its point aimed at the heart of her adversary.

"We don't need it," Dipper spat, tensed and ready to dodge as soon as Undyne got within striking range. "You do. But you threw it away when you almost killed my sister, so good luck trying to find it now!"

With a scream of incoherent rage, Undyne crouched, breaking into a full out sprint, her focus solely on Dipper, the tip of her spear imbued with every ounce of her desire to strike him down where he stood.

And he _smiled._

A brightly colored figure landed between them, having jumped from a nearby cluster of tall grass. It was the monster kid from before. Mabel had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. "Undyne! I'll help you fight!"

They either had the best or the worst timing in the history of time, which was why she hurried to their side, pure stubborn ferocity coming back with a roar as she practically dared either of them to take a single threatening step towards the child, ready to kick them both to the moon if they tried anything funny, but it wasn't necessary – Undyne straightened out of her charge at the same that Dipper hastily stashed his weapon behind his back.

Noticing the twins were there, the monster kid alternated rapidly between staring at their idol and staring at their new friends, trying to fit the pieces together. "Yo! You guys made it! Undyne is RIGHT in front of us! We've got front row seats to her fight!" It was heartbreaking how thrilled they sounded, how utterly stoked they were to celebrate what was sure to be Undyne's latest triumph over whatever wicked villain had dared messed with her with the friends they'd bonded with, and as Mabel stayed silent, not trusting herself to speak, as Dipper began to shake, as Undyne growled, their spear never wavering from its intended target, though an innocent stood in the way, and their enthusiasm dimmed, replaced by uncertainty and confusion. "… wait….who's she fighting?"

Undyne's weapon dissipated, its magic diffusing as she grabbed the little monster by the cheek, paying no heed to their protests, and dragged them out of sight.

"You better not hurt them!" Mabel shouted after them, cupping her hands around her mouth to imitate the effect of a megaphone. "If you do, I'll kick your metal butt all the way to the dark side of the moon! I mean it, Undyne!"

She twisted around with a huff, choosing to trust that the captain would take care of them, only to see her brother collapse to one knee, a hand pressed against his right eye. Worried, she bent to his level, a comforting hand already placed on his back. "Dipper," she asked, hating how small the name sounded falling from her lips, "what's wrong, bro bro?"

"Hurts," he grunted. Slowly, he pulled the heel of his hand away from his face. It was all she could do not to flinch at the sight of the blood flowing over his bottom lid. She tried to rub it off with the hem of her sleeve, though the first attempt had too much force behind, resulting in her accidentally smacking him in the eye before she calmed down enough to try again. For her second attempt, she was careful to move over the area in small, slow circles, until crimson stained her sweater in ugly smears, and then she bunched up the tainted bits of cloth in a clenched fist, mentally cringing as they rubbed up against her skin, and stood up, relieved to see that the scarlet tears had all dried up.

Helping Dipper to his feet, she tried to ask, in the most casual way possible, if he was sure he was feeling all right. They could stop if he needed to rest. But Dipper shook his head, rolled his shoulders, and set off, eager to complete their journey, "I probably just got dust in my eye or something," but Mabel waited, watching from where she stood as he stepped carefully back into the water, her mouth once more growing uncomfortably dry.

Normally, he would have suggested that they stock up on monster food, bandages, anything that could help if Undyne came back, but he didn't, and all because it was suddenly, painfully obvious that they were running out of time.

* * *

Golden balls of light drifted drowsily among the Echo Flowers, their gentle pulses producing a calming, serene atmosphere as the Echo Flowers swayed, stems bending to and fro under the tender caress of a light breeze.

All it took was a brush against their arms or waists and the flowers would release more of the conversation from earlier, and Mabel listened, entranced as the children bantered amongst each other, sounding not so different from her and her own brother, before confessing that all they really wanted to do was see the sky.

It was such an innocent, harmless wish. Whoever the children were, wherever they were, she hoped they were safe. More than anything, she hoped they, and all the other monsters who longed to see them, including Shyren, and Sans with his telescope, and Napstablook with their music, and Toriel and the monster kid and Aaron and the Innkeeper and Papyrus, Grillby, and the whole Royal Guard, and even Gerson, who might have seen them already, all got the chance to see how big and beautiful and wonderful the world really was.

And she wanted to be there.

She wanted to see it happen.

"We're never going to be here again," she realized, unconsciously uttering the words aloud just as Dipper reached the end of the pool, pointedly ignoring the ominous words on the plaque, though he couldn't help but catch a glimpse – _the underground will go empty_ \- as he climbed out of the water, then reached back to help her out. Mabel grasped the outstretched hand automatically, digging into the ledge for purchase as he helped her step onto the dry ground. "Even if we come back years from now, or weeks, or days, it'll never be the same place, and it won't be the same us. Everything'll be different. We'll be different."

Dipper's reply was immediate and firm. "I'm okay with that."

Silence fell, during which a moment passed where even the flowers seemed to pause, as though listening. "But I like who we are now."

And he sighed, his thoughts already moving on from the conversation, drifting towards the narrow, rickety bridge ahead. "How can you say that when we're already not who we were five minutes ago?"

She nodded, thinking over what he'd said even after he'd walked away to test the bridge's stability, because even when his face made creepy expressions all on its own and blood trailed down his cheeks for no discernible reason, even when he'd practically given up on ever being normal ever again, he still had to check to make sure the bridge was safe.

Five minutes ago, he would have done the same. Five days ago, he would have done the same. So, she watched, looking for subtle differences, trying to spot something she may have missed, but nothing new popped out at her. The bags under his eyes, dark like bruises, were an exaggeration of the slight bags he always had, and he still loved to write, still jumped at the chance to solve a good puzzle.

And her… Did she feel any different?

All of the sudden, the Echo Flowers rustled, their leaves brushing up against each other as something or someone disturbed them. Ahead, Dipper was busy testing whether or not the first plank could fully hold his weight. It looked like a sturdy bridge, with no scent of mold or mildew to suggest otherwise, though she supposed termites were still a possibility, and so she left him to it, heading back into the pool to check on the noise.

The first flower she brushed up against whispered, _"How much longer do you plan on covering for him?"_

She stiffened, recognizing the mocking intonation, and growled, "Flowey." If he thought he could freak her out again with another bogus prophecy…

 _"You really think what happened to the Mad Dummy was an accident?"_ A second flower added.

She plucked it out of the ground and shook it, speaking to it as though Flowey could somehow hear her, "You think you can scare me? Well, let me tell you something – it's not going to work. I'm so hard to scare, it's scary."

 _"Scare you? I'm only trying to help."_ It came from behind her. _"Deep down, you know your brother's a killer."_ It came from everywhere. Not even covering her ears could stop the whispers from drilling their venom into her brain. Suddenly, the words began to speed up, sounding angry, yes, but there was something deeper to it, something hidden beneath the surface that she couldn't quite make sense of, _"But you're ignoring it, acting like you're too blinded by your stupid sibling love to see the carnage that happens every time your back is turned… Hee hee hee"._

Frantic, she ripped them all out, as many as she could find. It was a mess and her heart ached, but she couldn't bear to hear them say, _"What do you think that makes you…"_

Choking back a cry, she stopped, fists full of dying flowers falling limp at her sides, _"…little Miss Accomplice?"_

And the flowers laughed as she turned to run, all of them, even the ones in her hands, which she quickly dropped, releasing their stems as though they'd begun to chew on her flesh.

Mad cackles chased after her as she scrambled out of the pool, continuing on and on as though torn between wanting to stay with her forever, and never wanting her to leave.

* * *

"Woah! Mabel, talk to me. What's wrong?"

He'd gotten to point of putting his full weight on the third plank, confident now that the bridge was solid as the ground itself, when he'd spotted Mabel tearing down the hall.

Narrowly avoiding running straight off the ledge, she bolted onto the bridge, not making it far before crashing into him, her body colliding at full force with his arms and chest as though she hadn't seen him, and she flailed, fists pounding weakly at his head and shoulders, wild-eyed and unfocused.

And he'd thought he'd known true fear, the sort that infected his dreams, that soured his every thought and twisted his emotions, but seeing her like this brought on a terror like he'd never known before. "Mabel!" He pinned her arms to her sides, hating it, despising every second, but she needed to calm down, so he trapped her arms with his own, circling them around her back until her struggles faltered, either because she'd finally tired herself out or because she'd come back to her senses. Then again, if she'd been serious from the start, he'd have already been pummeled into a nice paste on the floor. "Dipper?"

His name came out sounding like a question, tentative and fragile, but it was leaps and bounds from where they'd been before, and he smiled in pure, open relief. "Welcome back." No response. His face fell. "You want to tell me what happened back there?"

After a while, she uttered a sound that could have been anything from a hiccup to a giggle to a sob, a wet, horrid thing that made him long to punch something, though he shoved that feeling aside. It wasn't the place or the time for him to blow a fuse, not when she was freaked out enough, already. "Not really," she admitted, too wiped to think of anything else as she began the process of awkwardly disentangling herself from an embrace that had gone on long enough to straddle the border between comforting and the tiniest bit embarrassing.

A scalding wind plowed over the bridge and past the rock columns like a volcanic cloud, drying their clothes and hair in an instant, and though the force eventually let up, allowing them to continue across, the heat remained.

"We're here!" She cheered, thrilled that they were, at long last, heading into Hotland. How was she so sure that they were heading into Hotland? Because it was hot!

And the naming system in the Underground was about as creative as a straight line.

"We're practically at the Capitol!" They'd made it! Well, maybe there was still some walking to do, but the important thing was they were going to be okay! Dipper's problem was going to disappear once they passed through the barrier, they'd get to go home, get lots of hugs, and maybe even get to miss out on the last few weeks of school. After all, how often did your kids accidentally fall into a mountain filled with monsters, right? Coming back from that had to come with a few perks.

She grabbed onto her brother's arms, bouncing up and down, and it was like they were little kids again, back when the world wasn't so big, when holding hands and staring defiantly into the dark was enough to scare away the boogeyman.

Gradually, she calmed down enough to see that Dipper was distracted. She leaned forward. "What's up, Dipdop? Aren't you happy?" He focused on her, mouth pressed into thin, unhappy line.

The line curved into a frown as he refused to meet her gaze. "Actually, I've been thinking about what you said, about how it's not right for them to stay trapped here… " At last, he gave in, meeting her head on as he raised his chin and straightened his shoulders. "And I want to do something to change that."

Mabel held her breath, unable to believe what she was hearing. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah!" He nodded several times, already excited by the prospect of it, and encouraged by how little effort it was taking to sell her on the idea. "There's loads of old books for me to study in the local library. Maybe one of the descendants of the mages that created the barrier in the first place donated something, thinking it was junk? And if that doesn't work, I'll research magic and spells everyday, I'll find a replacement power source, I'll willing to do whatever it takes for as long it takes to bring down the barrier without another kid having to die."

What he was talking about was a career path, an endeavor he could dedicate his whole life to, and thanks to some of the monsters they'd met, as well as despite the best efforts of some of the others, he'd have a life to do it with.

And this was his choice, his way of making up for any and all of the harm he'd caused, intentional or not.

With a joyful cry, she threw her arms around him, heart swelling with a lifetime's worth of pride and affection, and Dipper allowed it, feeling light and free and whole and so fond it hurt, as whatever dam had been blocking the majority of his most positive emotions burst from the pressure of a weight it could longer hold.

"Yo!" Mabel shifted, still carrying her brother, as the monster kid from before ran up to meet them.

After setting Dipper down, she waved to them, relieved to see that there really wasn't a scratch on a single one of their yellow scales.

Something was different this time, though. They seemed nervous as they approached, their short tail twitching anxiously as their gaze flitted between the two siblings. As though to confirm the worst, the first words out of their snout was that they weren't supposed to be there, and when they asked if they could ask a question, Mabel had to remind herself that the ground wasn't really collapsing from under her, that the world wasn't ending, because even if this one monster, who was kind and sweet and good, who'd run up to them without fear and kept them company and called them their friends, didn't want to talk to them, anymore… Things would still work out, somehow.

As the kid – As their friend worked on asking them a question that really didn't need to be said out loud, Dipper crossed his arms, preparing for the worst.

"You're humans, right?" And there it was. It was all over now. Instead of casually passing through, they were going to have to sprint through the barrier.

Though she forced herself to swallow before attempting to answer, all Mabel could manage was a distressed squeak, one she quickly cut short.

Watching her closely, Dipper nodded, wincing when the kid abruptly shouted that they'd known they were humans. Sobering, they added that Undyne said they should stay away, that the humans were dangerous.

"Yeah?" Dipper zeroed in on them with a withering glare. "And what do you think? Still think Undyne should beat us up?"

It was their turn to flinch. "No! Um, I mean, not really? But, um… aren't we enemies?" The twins tensed. "It's… I kind of stink at that, though." They laughed, weak and humorless. Hating friends was hard. "Do you think you could… say something mean so I could hate you?"

In response, Mabel frantically shook her head, causing the tail of her braid to nearly whip Dipper across the face, though he hastily ducked to avoid it.

The monster kid shuffled his feet, giving the twins one last chance to change their minds. Neither of them uttered a sound. "I guess that means I have to be the one to say it," they didn't like this. "Yo, your… your sweater's weird." Mabel gasped, her eyes shining with hurt. They hastily shifted their attention to Dipper, stammering, "and…. and your hat smells funny." The halfhearted criticism didn't faze him, though. It was met with a quick, apathetic shrug, since it wasn't like he'd had a chance to wash it, recently, and being told he smelled was hardly anything new. It tended to come with the territory of being a growing boy who sometimes forgot to step away from whatever project he was working on long enough to take a shower.

"Stop trying to force a conflict," he said softly, already turning to leave, "If it's a fight you're looking for, you'll have to find it somewhere else."

With that, he swung a heavy arm around Mabel, guiding and supportive. They leaned on each other, their slender backs close enough to keep out the world.

For a moment, the monster kid wondered if there'd ever be enough room for them, too. "No, wait, I take it back!" The monster kid cried out, chasing after them. "I was just saying that to try and hurt your feelings." Oh no. That sounded terrible. "Actually, I really like your sweater. I wish I had one just like it. And you're hat smells like…" Keeping unnervingly silent, the twins straightened, raising their heads though they made no move to turn around, and waited for them to finish. "T-the junkyard!"

Huffing after their outburst, they wondered if they'd ruined everything, when a snort startled them, breaking the tension, and the twins whirled around, Mabel grinning broadly as she rushed to throw her arms around them, "I thought you were really gonna hate us, you stinker."

Joining them, Dipper gave the monster kid's head an affectionate pat, careful to avoid their spikes, the corners of his mouth still twitching at the junkyard comment.

Metallic footsteps approached, an electric hum traveled through the air, filling it, charging it. "Take your hands off the child," the captain of the Royal Guard growled. "If you want to keep them, that is."

Face twisting as though he'd tasted something sour, Dipper stepped in front of his sister and the little monster, already drawing his blade, though he wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, shackled as he was by their presence, when a yellow blur pushed past, placing themselves between Undyne and the twins.

"These are my friends! They haven't done anything bad to anybody, and if you- if you," the monster kid trembled, "can't accept that, then maybe you're not as cool as I thought you were." Gulp.

Under the unwavering scrutiny of their idol, the kid took a step back, their claw accidentally slipping on a sunken section in the bridge. With a startled yelp, they teetered towards the side, but in burst of speed, Mabel leapt, grabbing a hold of their collar, going over with them as one hand reached for something to hold onto before they plummeted to chasm below. Her fingers grasped the edge, nails digging into the wood as much as they could, bringing the fall to a violent halt, and she cried out in pain as the full weight of the frightened kid yanked at one of her sockets, with the combined weight of them both nearly dislocating the other.

There was no snow to cushion her fall this time, no Papyrus to jump down and save her, only Dipper, and with Undyne, the very monster responsible for nearly killing her not even an hour before, what was he supposed to do?

Well, what was _one more sin, right?_

He could feel the foreign presence crawling out of the depths of his mind like a cockroach, spurred by his fear, but he stamped it down, splitting his concentration to force it back as he rushed forward to drive Undyne off with a furious swipe of his blade. "Get back!" Nothing happened. Confused by how little it seemed to faze her, he tried again. "Stay away from them!"

The swings were wild, embarrassingly amateurish, his limbs like lead, chains holding him back as his own body fought against him. He wasn't fast enough. He wasn't strong enough. Without the voice's help, he was completely useless.

With a low noise of disdain reverberating through her helmet, she grabbed ahold of his dominant arm, incapacitating him with ease, then clenched her free hand into a fist.

* * *

It felt like being torn in half.

Muscle stretched and tore, causing burst of white fire to dance through her vision.

Distantly, she heard the rattle of armored plates. She heard her brother's voice shouting, his feet breaking into a run, and the rattling came to a abrupt halt. All at once, a pitiful whimper from beneath her consumed her attention, and she glanced down to see the monster child sniffling, their round eyes brimming with frightened tears as they swung from her abused arm. The striped, tube-top sweater they wore had slipped up their neck, the spikes protruding from their spine the only saving grace that had kept them from sliding out entirely.

Swallowing her fear, Mabel said, "H-hey," their gaze flicked up to her, away from the jagged rocks below. Good. "I can't… believe I never asked you, but…" Pain lanced through her limbs. Suppressing a groan, she asked as though they were shaking hands in the park, "What's your name?"

A sniff. "Everybody calls me, M.K."

Wearing the best, most beatific smile she could pull off under the circumstances, Mabel replied, "That's a great name, M.K." A loud, fleshy smack, followed by a solid thud and a disgusted scoff from above was the only warning both received before a large, powerful arm came down to grab Mabel by the elbow and lift the whole chain up with ease.

After a moment of quiet disbelief where the two simply marveled at being alive, Undyne latched onto the monster kid's shirt, pulling him away from Mabel with a violence that jarred her shoulder. After tucking them under her arm, the captain of the Royal Guard threw her to her brother, who cushioned her fall with his body when she landed on top of him.

Scrambling off of him, Mabel caught a glimpse of a rapidly swelling and discolored cheek. "You hurt him!" Rising to her feet like a lioness protecting her cub, Mabel threw the accusation at Undyne's retreating back, no longer caring if it came to a fight. Anyone who thought they could lay a hand on her brother without regretting it was dreaming.

To their surprise, the captain actually paused, and though they couldn't see her face, something in the tilt of her helmet suggested she was weighing her words. Slowly, she said, "He tried to stop me from saving you, human."

And with that, the captain took her leave, the monster kid bobbing their head goodbye.

They watched her go, silent, until a quiet, almost inaudible voice behind Mabel said, "I thought she was going to push you off." She turned in time to see him shudder, the shame he felt clear in the subtle tremor traveling up and down his limbs.

Even though she was the one who'd leapt without looking, who'd nearly gotten both her and M.K. killed because she hadn't thought things through, just acted on instinct and impulse like she always did, running full speed ahead even if she went right off the rails, he was the one blaming himself. Because he'd gone up against a trained and terrifying soldier, a knight straight from the legends, and lost.

"Dipper," she gripped his wrist and hefted him up, "when did my dorky brother start turning into such a cool guy?"

He blinked. "But… I lost?"

"You think that matters?" Now that the adrenaline was evaporating, exhaustion enveloped her like a weighted blanket. Breathing deeply, her head flopped forward, falling heavily onto his shoulder. "I can't believe you even _tried_. She could have killed you." A long yawn escaped her, her voice dropped to a quiet mumble. "Thanks, bro bro."

Careful not to jostle her too much, Dipper gave her a tentative shake, hoping it'd be enough to wake her up some. It wasn't time for them to relax yet.

The captain of the Royal Guard would be back to steal their souls soon, and without any witnesses around, it was doubtful that rare and unexpected show of mercy would be making a reappearance.

They should have gone back to Gerson's. The king would have left, eventually. He'd been too cautious, too caught in his own problems to plan ahead, and when the gentlest brush instigated a wince, when walking with her arms at her side made her face grey, her veins dark and angry under her translucent skin, it underlined how worthless their bag full of gold coins really was.

They crossed another small bridge, careful to avoid the sunken patch in the middle, and found themselves at the base of a stalagmite the size of a small mountain. It rose with jagged peaks under a red, sulfurous cloud.

And standing tall, balanced on the highest tip, the metal teeth of their helmet gleaming and hungry, was what could only be the embodiment of death itself, looking down on them like they were the scum of the earth.

"Seven."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has left a review or even just taken the time to read this story. I've gotten a lot of support and inspiration from some incredible Undertale and Gravity Falls fans, and I'm really excited about all the cool things that will be revealed next chapter.**

 **Generally, the next few chapters should average about 5k words, depending on when I find a good ending point, since I'm honestly more comfortable with that length, and would like to save really long chapters like this for one or more of the concluding chapters. Also, I know I said I'd try to put up an update every two weeks, but circumstances have made it so I've consistently missed that goal, which is pretty frustrating, so I'm going to make that deadline a little more flexible. New chapters will be up as soon as they're finished, which I will do my absolute best to ensure is not _too_ long.**

 **krmv givv'h yvvm kozbrmt drgs uriv**

 **hlnvlmv'h ylfmw gl tvg yfimvw**


	21. Death of a Star

**A/N: Looks like it's finally time to post pre-chapter warnings. Now, this isn't the first character death that has popped up in this story, but this one's a little more graphic than the others, so be wary of that. Also, there's some self-harm towards the end. If you've seen Gravity Falls, you should have a pretty good idea of what I'm talking about.**

* * *

Whoever it was that said the only thing to fear was fear itself had obviously never stared directly up at the fearsome silhouette of a deranged knight plucked straight from the dark ages, complete with an inexhaustible supply of spears and an unhealthy penchant for stabbing people with the pointy ends.

Though thoroughly offput by the prospect of yet another battle, Mabel shifted her weight to pull away so she could stand on her own, clumsily disentangling her arms from his shoulders in the process.

He watched as she gave herself a little shake, shrugging off the dizzying languor of her latest adrenaline crash with the ease and flippancy of forgetting a bad hair day, loosening up her muscles, rolling from her heels to her toes.

Even if she'd rather talk things out, there was nothing wrong with anticipating a fight, and if worst came to worse, then she'd be ready to make a break for it as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

His swelling cheek, still stinging from its encounter with the captain's iron fist, rather hoped for the latter. Neither of them was in any shape to be fighting, let alone wait for the captain to exhaust herself the way they'd tried with Papyrus. With both of them suffering from injuries that none of the gold they'd managed to accumulate would heal, and the lasting strain of their previous encounter with the captain, a single good hit from one of those weird, wiggling gelatin monsters would probably take them down, let alone a serious blow from a soldier trained for the exact purpose of taking them down.

Essentially, if it came down to a fight, then they'd already lost. Luck meant little when faced with experience, even if some of that luck seemed to be coming from an unexpected and morally ambiguous benefactor.

Meanwhile, the captain boomed out a rather obviously rehearsed - Dipper would recognize that too perfect 'I've been practicing in front of a mirror' pronunciation, anywhere – monologue, voice ringing clearly despite the mask, "Seven human souls, and King Asgore will become a god." It was the same speech as before, except this rendition was even more dramatic than the last.

Scratching her head, Mabel frowned. "Seven? I could have sworn she said, 'Kevin." She seemed exceptionally pleased by this discovery, as though the universe had suddenly decided to open up and share one of its most closely guarded secrets. "Seven makes so much more sense!"

And there it was. You could always count on Mabel to find the absurdly thin, borderline nonexistent silver lining to their encroaching doom. "If we make it through this," Dipper glanced sidelong at her, huffing at the sight of the impromptu thumbs up she'd gleefully thrown in his direction, "we need to have a serious talk about your priorities."

From her perch, the captain drew in a deep breath, sucking in the scorching air without any outward sign of discomfort, then bellowed down with a reverberating echo, "SILENCE!" They stiffened, a sensation similar to that of being scolded by a kindergarten teacher warming their cheeks.

In an instant, the helmet was cast aside, revealing the ocean blue scales decorating every inch of the captain's face and neck, the delicate webbing stretched between the spines of the fins springing from where her ears would normally be located, an eyepatch placed snuggly over her left eye, and a fiery red ponytail. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to interrupt when someone's speaking?!"

Now that Undyne's full attention was on them, it was going to be difficult to make a break for it through the gaping tunnel ahead of them, but with so little options and resources at their disposal, the opportunity was too tempting to pass up. And as much as he'd love to pay her back a little for some of the injuries she'd heaped on top of both of them, she had saved Mabel, putting her somewhere towards the bottom of the growing list of monsters to whom he owed some gratitude.

Bluffing their way out wouldn't work; she wasn't the type to be scared off by theatrics, not when she was a one-man Broadway show herself. There had to be another way to distract her.

Just in case, Dipper shrugged off his backpack, knowing that holding onto the money and journal would only serve to slow him down. Hopefully, there'd be a chance to retrieve it later.

As he did so, Dipper heard his sister mutter that it felt like they were preparing to throw down with a real superhero. "If she weren't after our heads, I'd have already snagged that journal out of there and begged her for an autograph." Hands clenched into fists at her sides, chin raised in defiance, she huffed an empty, humorless laugh. "Guess that means we really are the bad guys."

"Not a chance," Dipper retorted for only her ears to hear, desperate to rid her of the most ridiculous notion she'd ever come up with – neither of them deserved any of this, didn't deserve to be hunted or feared or hated. And whether she'd meant it as a joke or not, it didn't matter. There were a few key things that needed to be set straight, and now wasn't the time to do it, but Dipper wasn't going to let that stop him from trying. "You're the least villainous person I know," he told her. "You've got more good in your pinky than ten of this crazy fish lady put together."

The smile she shot him in response was smaller than her usual fare, but strong and unwaveringly grateful, like she'd been given a part of the moon to hold and keep forever. After everything she'd done for him, he doubted he'd ever be able to fully repay her, but this was a good start.

Reaching deep down into his diaphragm, Dipper called up to the captain of the Royal Guard, "Sorry! I know we're being very rude, but that's only because we're kind of tired. It's been something of a long day, and we're really not in the right frame of mind to deal with – to _appreciate_ this at the moment. Think we could take a rain check? Maybe come back later?"

Undyne leapt from the peak, plummeting towards the earth with the speed and ferocity of a meteor, until her legs slammed onto the rock floor in front of them, blocking the only path to the tunnel, and shattering the ground. With a crater beneath her, she sneered, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need some time to rest? A nap, maybe?" An electric blue spear materialized in her grasp. At the same time, she thrust an open palm at the twins, causing their chests to seize, their feet to stay rooted to the ground, as an iridescent shield, tinted green and thin like glass, curled around their dominant arms. "Taking the life of that Froggit must have really tuckered you out."

Mabel strained against the magic, pulling fruitlessly against the pull that kept her anchored to the ground. Seeing Dipper tense, with the memory of the Froggit's final, agonized moments, of the dust on his hands, so obviously searing through his brain, she rushed to his defense, yelling, "That was an accident! We didn't mean to-"

"They were scared, weren't they?" The spear spun through Undyne's fingers, twirling in a neon arc. "Froggits are harmless, and yet you cut them down without remorse."

"That's not how it happened!"

"You could have talked to them."

"We didn't know that, then!"

" _Why not?_ " The cutting mix of vitriol and disappointment in her question brought Mabel up short. She pressed her lips together in a thin, unhappy line, unable to think of an answer, and Undyne smirked, as though she'd known all along that the humans were merely wolves in sheep's clothing, pretending to want to get along when really all they wanted was to save their own skins. "That's twice now you've interrupted my speech, and now I've lost my train of thought. Hope you're ready to pay the price."

Mabel swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Dipper, who still looked a little shaken, like all his blood had evaporated, and all his bones had turned to mush. The only thing keeping him standing was the spell around his heart, squeezing his ribcage, and Mabel flicked her eyes up to Undyne, who loomed large and forbidding, taking in the dark scowl she wore. "Don't worry, bro bro," Mabel whispered, hoping she sounded leagues more confident than she felt. "I got this."

Straightening, she called for Undyne to let her brother sit this battle out, since there wasn't any point in taking both of their souls when the Underground only needed seven. "One and done, right?" A wild grin had her lips curling back to reveal her braces, as though the dental ware could match the captain's fangs for intimidation.

It snapped Dipper out of his trance. Horrified by what he was hearing, he sputtered out protests, "No. No way. This is not happening," waving his arms and yelling with increasing desperation, but Undyne wasn't paying any attention to him anymore.

"That's a brave offer, human. I'm impressed." She tilted her head, considering. Then her mouth stretched into a similar expression, flashing her fangs in a matching grin, though hers was as much an expression of challenge as it was of battlelust. And it transformed her, made her brighter, more vibrant, a legend in the making with her hair whipping behind her in the scorching wind, scarlet and vivid as the flaming feathers of a phoenix tail. "Let's see if you've got the bite to back up your bark."

Crouching, Mabel readied her shield.

The first strikes came slowly, with the occasional projectile going wide, and Dipper had to act quickly to block it, watching with fascination as the electricity dissipated upon contact. While his share remained at a steady, manageable pace, though, Mabel often had to swing the shield attached to her forearm from side to side, preventing the impact of sometimes three strikes at once.

It gave Dipper time to think, to plan, but seeing her in constant danger was distracting him. What did they know about Undyne? They knew that her armor was heavy, which didn't seem to slow her down much, but there was a chance that it increased her susceptible to overheating. It was only a chance, though. And without any ability to test it, the theory was practically useless.

"Not bad," Undyne crowed, her arm shooting above her head, palm outstretched as though to call down a hurricane, "How about this?!"

Streaking white tails of lightning, arcing high and fast with the deadly beauty of comets careening through the atmosphere, came pouring down from the ceiling overhead, except these didn't falter, didn't dwindle away in the heat. They gained momentum, each of them aiming for the same target, a little girl with a red heart sewed over her chest.

"Mabel, this is crazy! You have to get out of here!"

"I'm not going," she viciously batted a spear aside, "anywhere!"

A spear rocketed towards Dipper's side, distracting him from the onslaught, and he turned, only to realize too late that one had been aimed at his chest, as well. He heard his sister scream, felt the electricity sear his torso as the spear passed through him, and then… nothing. There wasn't a scratch on him, not even a burn.

He patted his shirt up and down in confused disbelief. How was he still alive? He could have sworn… "I'm okay!" He called out to Mabel, who thankfully was still holding her own. "It must have missed me."

She slumped in heavy relief, unintentionally allowing her shield to droop, until a massive spear collided with its surface, sending her skidding backwards on her heels. Dipper could practically smell the rubber of her soles burning as she struggled to recover from the blow. "Why are you doing this?" Mabel shouted, trying one last time to reason with the captain. "You're like a hero here, aren't you? Kids look up to you; people want to be like you, so how can you act like this? Taking our souls might get you through the barrier, but wouldn't it be a million times better if we all worked together?"

Snarling, Undyne shot back, "You think I care about being a bad role model?" She did. Mabel was sure of it. "As long as every monster in the Underground is safe, as long as the path to fulfilling their hopes and dreams is clear, it doesn't matter what happens to me. But how could you understand? You've never been asked to sacrifice a single thing in your life."

A calm fell over her. "Until today."

It was a Valkyrie's promise, delivered low and menacing, and with it came the latest, fastest barrage of volleys yet, as though Undyne had never truly made up her mind to kill them until to this moment. They slammed against Mabel's shield, the impact traveling up her arm, shaking her bones, pushing her farther and farther from the tunnel.

Meanwhile, Dipper writhed against the pull of the green magic paralyzing his legs, desperation driving him to beg for the being inside him to help him. It didn't matter how.

 _You need me, don't you?_ Behind him, Mabel faltered, nearly pulling up her shield too late to block an actual, solid spear that flew towards her flank. Annoyed by the ploy, she fixed Undyne with a glower, breaths bursting from her chest in grunts and heaves. _Without my body, you're not going anywhere, except right back to wherever it was you came from, so get me out of this mess. Help me win! Help me save my sister!_

He lurched forward, startled to find himself suddenly free of the green magic, and twisted, already racing to get to Mabel, ducking instinctively to avoid the projectiles aimed at him.

She was holding on by a spider's thread, back hunched with the effort of holding her head, her swipes becoming sluggish, but her face brightened at the sight of his freedom, confusion mixing with pure, unadulterated joy, and then he was on her, lifting her and Undyne's clunky shield with a strength he was positive he didn't actually possess, but offhandedly chalked up to the emergency reserves the body tapped into whenever a child was trapped under a car or something.

The captain's armor gave her a defense that was nigh impenetrable, but it was heavy and unwieldy, stealing from her speed and agility what it added to her durability, and the weather was fast approaching 'trapped in an active volcano' levels of hot, so even though carrying Mabel would slow him down significantly – and he'd likely never be able to do it again in his life unless he seriously considered lifting weights – he decided that getting close enough to the knight to slip past her was worth the risk of getting within impalement range.

At his approach, Undyne roared a challenge, before charging like a matador bull, a fist raised that, upon contact, would surely break bone. She was holding nothing back, but Dipper used the entirety of his weight and Mabel's weight combined to lean heavily to one side, enabling them both to avoid the brunt of her attack.

Upon entering the tunnel, shadows settled, cool on their skin, the air tickling the napes of their sweat slickened necks, but before they could reach the end – and Dipper could see a massive screen not too far ahead, was counting on there being people nearby, someone who could raise an objection to two kids being slaughtered before their very eyes – Undyne leapt to block their way. "You think I'm going to let you continue standing in the way of everyone's hopes and dreams?"

Dipper set Mabel down, then moved instantly in front of her, his weapon drawn and flashing, reflecting a reddish glow across Undyne's enraged sneer. "Stay behind me, Mabel."

All at once, he felt her stiffen, her shield and its weight suddenly dissipating, vanishing into the atmosphere. He turned in time to see the look of confusion pass over her face, her lips moving soundlessly as she began to pitch forward.

Forgetting about the knife, uncaring of whether or not Undyne would choose that moment to attack, he turned his back to catch her before she could hit the ground, dropping to his knees in an effort to better cushion her fall. There was a terrible, acrid smell in the air, like hair burning, and-

 _There's something wet dripping from the flower petals. At first, his mind was slow, his thoughts coming together like a jumbled painting that used to mean something but now there's too many odd shapes and mismatched colors to make any sense of it, and he's sure these flowers must be roses. Carnations. Poppies. Amaryllis. Something red and red and red..._

 _Her head laid heavy in his lap, her neck bent at an odd angle, with her face too pale, and something's pushing against her skin, a bump that's sharp to the touch. She's missing – missing whatever coats the flowers, the ground, and it's staining his shirt but his shirt was always red and his hands are red as he cradles her against his chest and soon it's all he can see…_

 _He called for help._

 _And no one came._

 _…But something did._

 _He didn't know how long he waited, with warm red liquid dripping over his hands, running over the skin between his fingers, but eventually a putrescence saturated the air, making it foul, and he started to panic, thoughts leaping immediately to repeated, looping denials that his sister was beginning to decay in his arms._

 _And he was right._

 _It wasn't her. The rot came from the ground, from the flowers, seeping from their petals. It was black as tar, and it moved towards Mabel, clinging to her fingers, creeping up her arms, climbing up the strands of her sticky, matted brown hair._

 _It was trying to get inside._

 _Dipper beat it back, screaming at the black ooze to leave them alone, to go back to wherever it'd come from and never come back, but it redoubled its efforts, threatening to overwhelm him, until a different figure formed in the darkness. It waved a spindly hand, and the ooze actually recoiled, retreating back into the earth with a shriek of pain and rage. "Looks like you owe me one, Pine Tree."_

 _Dipper looked up to see that the figure was a triangule, a pyramid with limbs, straight from the deranged fever dream of an employee at the National Treasury. It tipped its hat, then growled, "Of course. You owe me a lot more than that, after you ruined over a millennia of work and TRAPPED ME DOWN HERE TO ROT FOR ETERNITY!"_

 _Blue fire._

 _A photograph burning, an old man Dipper's seen only in scrapbooks and postcards smiling on the front as the edges begin to shrink and curl._

 _Dipper had no idea what the creature was talking about, nor what the images playing over its body were supposed to mean. He didn't care. "Oh?" The creature narrowed its one eye, settling down. "You really don't know who I am, do you?" Not trusting himself to speak, Dipper shook his head, failing to notice as the dark green star embroidered on his hat morphed into a blue pine tree. Satisfied with that answer, the creature shrugged. "I can work with that. Your timeline never made a lick of difference to me, anyway." It outstretched a three-fingered hand, which Dipper made no move to take, "Bill Cipher, here, at your service. So…" It gestured towards Mabel, "what's the deal with Shooting Star here?"_

 _At the reminder, Dipper shuddered as though waking up from a nightmare, his protective grip around his sister's shoulders tightening. "Can you…" it comes out hoarse, like he hasn't spoken in years. Coughing, he tries again, "Can you fix her?"_

 _"Sure can, bub. But…" The enigmatic being disappeared for an instant, then popped back into existence, much closer this time. It's grown massive, its large eyeball inches away from pressing against Dipper's forehead. In some detached corner of his brain, Dipped thought he could trace the bulging veins and lines zigzagging through it. He took notice of how the triangle's coloring had changed, having shifted to a deep, angry crimson, and pondered what he could have done to upset it, "nothing's free in this world. If I do that for you, then the question that remains is: What will you do for me in return?"_

 _"I'll do anything! I'll give you anything you want! Just…" He's so broken he can barely think. He hasn't been alone since the day he was born. Lonely, maybe, but never, ever alone, and now he was._

 _He can't face that, doesn't want to wake up one morning to remember that he'd had a sister, a twin he could share everything with._

 _Until, one day, she was gone._

 _There was an entire world for them to explore, and all their lives to live. So, if Bill could help, if there was even the slightest chance, then-"Bring her back. Please."_

 _The corners of Bill's eye turned up in a sick imitation of a gleeful smile, but Dipper was past caring, so when the spindly hand was thrust out once more, this time burning in azure flames that gave off no heat, only light, spreading darker shadows that climbed the walls, looming over the proceedings with minds of their own, he gripped it without hesitation._

 _Bill laughed, mocking and cruel. "Make no mistake, Pine Tree. This here's a deal that lasts 'til the end of time." A lid closed over his bulging eye, then flew open, as though trying to approximate a wink. "Better not let a single thing happen to a pretty hair on her head, or you won't like what happens next."_

 _He snapped his fingers…_

 _The world stuttered..._

 _And Dipper fell._

"Mabel?" Dipper said, small and disbelieving. He'd caught her, and now her head rested on his lap, his knuckles turning white as he gripped her tightly around the shoulders and shook. "Don't scare me like this, okay? Wake up." Glassy, unseeing eyes stared up at him. He shuddered, curling over her with a sob that burst violently from his chest. "Come on! Please… please wake up."

After an entire life of never being alone, he didn't know how to process this new reality. It was straight from his nightmares, the very reason he'd tried to push her away.

Tenderly, he brushed a stray lock of wet hair away from her cheek. "You promised me we were going home together, Mabel." He didn't notice the internal conflict curling Undyne's hands into fists as she watched him mourn her, nor register that she could have killed him at any time, yet chose to give him space. Even if he had, he wouldn't have shown her any gratitude for it. Now that Undyne had her last soul, nothing she did or said would ever hold any meaning to him. Her mercy was worthless. "That wasn't a lie, right?"

Mabel's head lolled to the side, her lips parted, frozen in the midst of a startled gasp. Her braid had come undone during the fall, allowing her hair to spill out over his legs, framing her ashen features with the gold and amber of a halo.

It couldn't be real.

It wasn't.

"Well, well, well," the colors melted from the ceiling, from the rock, from the river flowing nearby, until everything came to a halt. Dipper raised his head to see Undyne standing immobile, still as a figure from a faded photograph, but before he could decide what to do next, a golden pyramid in a top hat and bowtie emerged from nonexistence, complete with a gleeful chuckle, "that's quite a mess you've gotten yourself into there, Pine Tree."

Dipper scowled, recognizing the glib tone, the harsh, mocking voice that he'd grown more accustomed to having grate against the inside of his skull. "Bill! So, it was you inside me this whole time, making me think I was losing my mind, making me hurt people!"

He remembered everything now. Falling into the cavern, meeting this demon in the cave, accepting his deal, and the price… What was it? He'd never specified what price he was willing to pay. At the time, it hadn't mattered.

"Making you hurt _monsters_ , you mean," a cane appearing in his hand, Bill tutted, as though he felt Dipper was being terribly unreasonable in his accusations. Waving vaguely, he added, "Trust me, bucko, I didn't make you do anything you weren't already thinking of doing, anyway." He shrugged. "And it's not like you can lose something that wasn't yours to begin with."

The demon hovered closer, ignoring Dipper's attempts to drag himself and Mabel away from him. There was nowhere for Dipper to go, nowhere for him to run.

Realizing he was out of options, Dipper stopped trying. His arms linked around Mabel's torso, as though he could still somehow protect them both. "What are you going to do?" He demanded, sickened to see that Bill was having actually enjoying watching him squirm, as though Dipper were a worm writhing on the end of a hook, or a mouse struggling under the paw of a cat.

"Memory loss is a little tricky when it comes to deals. A gray area, really. You should ask Stan about it, sometime, not that you're ever going to see 'em. Deal's up, after all." The demon's voice distorted to an inhuman growl, "Time to pay the piper."

Blue flames leapt up Dipper's arm, starting from where Bill had forcibly latched onto his hand, and suddenly, he couldn't move, couldn't even scream as energy surged through his veins, microwaving his intestines.

Black crawled at the edges of Dipper's vision, swallowing him up as his consciousness began to fade. No, worse than that. It was being erased. Everything he was, everything he'd been, everything he'd ever be, it was all being erased.

With the last of his strength, he interlocked his fingers with Mabel's, willing the last thing he saw to be her face, the last memory flitting through his mind to be her smile, so that some part of her, no matter how small, would survive in whatever it was Bill was turning him into.

It wasn't enough.

He needed to stay.

But Bill wasn't in front of him, anymore. He was in his mind, right back where he'd been from the very beginning.

All that time, Dipper had thought he'd been fighting a losing battle, when really the battle he'd been fighting had been doomed from the start. In the face of that, he'd never even had a chance.

Biting back tears, Dipper gathered up Mabel in his arms, determined to stay together for as long as possible, before the inevitable tore them apart, burning him up from the inside as the foreign entity raging through his system ignited everything in its path.

* * *

Undyne watched as the boy doubled over in grief, though what little she could glimpse of his expression seemed strangely blank.

Killing the girl had given her no satisfaction – in all honesty, though Undyne refused to admit this simple truth, even to herself - she'd rather hoped the girl would weather her attacks, having believed in a secret, hidden corner of her heart that they might one day face each other as friends and equals, but it wasn't to be, and in the face of the task presented before her now, that of claiming the girl's SOUL, her chest felt empty, hollowed out and scraped clean by disappointment's sharp edge.

Taking it in front of her brother would be cruel, though. There had to be a way to get rid of him.

Stepping forward, Undyne made sure to announce her presence with a cough so as not scare him, anymore. It was difficult to clear her throat when her mouth was so dry, but she managed. "Out of respect to her sacrifice," it took every ounce of self-discipline she had not to cringe at the poor word choice, knowing full well that what happened was no sacrifice. She'd struck down an opponent that refused to strike back, despite knowing full well that the girl had never laid a hand on a single monster. It would likely haunt her for the rest of her life, but if it meant freeing her people, then she'd gladly shoulder the weight of any grudge. "I will have my men escort you to the barrier. Try anything funny, though, and they'll tear you limb from limb, understand?"

At the sound of her voice, the boy didn't so much as twitch.

Was he even listening?

"Hey," she grabbed his shoulder, more roughly than she'd intended, "did you hear what I said?"

Years of instincts flared in warning as the boy tilted his head backwards, thin lips stretched wide in a corpse's grin, "What's up, fishstick?"

Before her, tucked safely away in the body of a child, was something ancient, cruel, and ferociously uncontainable. It's a hurricane, a forest fire, an eldritch nightmare with the eyes of a murderer shining from under the disheveled mop of wet hair clinging to its forehead.

Acting on that impulse, Undyne launched herself backwards, warily putting plenty of space between them as yet another spear of pulsing, crackling energy formed within her grasp. "What are you?!" She demanded. "What happened to the boy?"

The… _thing_ wearing the girl's brother swayed to its feet, moving its limbs in an odd, disjointed manner, suggesting it didn't quite know how to use its new body yet. "Catch me if you can!"

It darted past her, a blur of golden sclera, orange and red sprinting towards the Hotland billboard with the restraint of a caffeinated squirrel, and faced with no other alternative – she certainly couldn't let this thing run amok in the Underground – Undyne stomped after it, shoving her own discomfort aside as the temperature continued to rise.

In the end, none of her spears made a difference.

Those that hit the faux child were absorbed seamlessly through its clothing, and those hit only because the creature allowed it. The rest of the time, it avoided her strikes effortlessly, infuriating her with taunts and raucous laughter.

The second time it escaped her, Undyne's phone vibrated, signaling an incoming call. Glaring at the device, she pondered just who in the Underground could possibly have such god-awful timing. On the third ring, her voicemail picked up.

"HEY, UNDYNE!" Oh, it was Papyrus. That explained it. What could he possibly want now? "I WAS JUST THINKING… HOW GREAT WOULD IT BE IF YOU, ME, AND THE HUMANS COULD ALL MEET UP AT YOUR HOUSE? I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO GET IN TOUCH WITH THEM LATELY, THOUGH, SO I'M A LITTLE WORRIED. AND SANS HASN'T RETURNED ANY OF MY SEVENTEEN CALLS! I'M SURE YOU'RE VERY BUSY, BUT DO YOU THINK YOU COULD CHECK UP ON THEM FOR ME? PLEASE AND THANK YOU!"

Oh, so he wanted to obliviously make her feel like the worst person in the world. Well, mission accomplished, dork.

"That Papyrus?" The thing wearing the boy called back to her with a sly smirk. "He's always losing his head over the tiniest problems, isn't he?"

The words themselves were harmless enough, but something about the way they were said set Undyne's teeth on edge. Though she knew nothing about what happened or why, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the smarmy little worm leading her on a goose chase was bad news.

And yet… It knew about Papyrus.

She couldn't let it leave her sight, not for an instant, so she followed it past the empty sentry station, internally fuming to see that the skeleton posted there was once again shirking his duties, and then crossed the bridge, heaving by the time she got to the end where the former human waved cheerfully, as though it hadn't just purposely manipulated her into overheating herself.

It was while she was wearing a dark scowl that her legs finally buckled, and the full weight of her body and armor collapsed onto the bridge's boards, hitting them with a force that momentarily knocked her senseless.

Woozy from dehydration, she pried open her eyes to see a cup full of water being tipped over directly in front of her, rendering the liquid that could save her unattainable, as Hotland's heat evaporated it form the wood in seconds. She gnashed her teeth. Had any of her own men taunted their opponents in such a way, she'd have had them stripped of their rank and banned from the Royal Guard before they could so much as spit.

Laughing uproariously, the thing that used to be human tossed the empty cup at her forehead, its mirth increasing exponentially when it bounced harmlessly off her forehead, then rolled off the bridge to burn in the flowing lava below.

Humiliated as she was, Undyne willed herself not to wince. This was her fault, after all. Her failure.

Back in the tunnel, she'd clearly killed the wrong human.

* * *

Bill hadn't had this much fun in ages!

The captain had proved a little tougher than he'd expected, snarling and snapping at his feet long after her limbs refused to support her, but it wasn't long before the heat stole even that from her, rendering her prone and unconscious, a victim to his nonexistent mercy.

It was after pouring the third cup of water directly in front of her, but always out of reach, that a flat, carefully controlled voice from behind him said, "I know I told ya to loosen up a little, but don't you think you're taking that to an unhealthy extreme? But then… You're _not_ the kid, are you?"

At first, the boy's body stiffened, and Sans strained to see if Dipper was still in there, somewhere. Fighting to free himself. But then Bill drew the blade he'd seen the kid swinging around in Waterfall, its sharp edge gleaming, reflecting the light of the lava flowing steadily below. "And you're not a hero, so what of it?" Bill replied breezily, now on the journey to his fourth cup of water. With the knife's tip balanced precariously on the tip of a finger, he filled up the cone until it overflowed, then dumped it onto the wooden plank in front of Undyne. For a finishing touch, he tossed the empty cup at her head, before going to retrieve another. Sans watched the process with an inscrutable expression, making no move to stop it. "Little early to be confronting me, don't you think?" As flippantly as it was delivered, a warning was a warning. "I haven't even gotten started."

A relieved sigh nearly whistled through his clenched jaws before Sans could catch it, and shove the urge down. Putting his cards on table with guys like this would almost definitely get him killed. "If that's what you're after, pal, then you're too late. The Ruins are closed."

The demon - whatever it was, it wasn't a monster – flicked yellow eyes onto him, narrowing them into slits. The boy's manic expression drooped, as though suddenly bored. Then, before Sans could even realize what happening, let alone stop it, the boy grabbed one of his own fingers and yanked it backwards. There was a sickening crack, followed shortly by the boy's mouth splitting open to allow for the agonized howl that rushed from it.

Without the distortion, without the creepy laughter, it looked and sounded exactly like the kid.

Upon its release, the broken digit remained where it was, bent at an unnatural angle. The boy jerked, a marionette, his limbs swaying loosely as Bill glanced smugly up at the skeleton, as though gauging his reaction to the display.

"Don't…" Sans said quietly, fighting the chills crawling up his spine, "Don't do that again."

"Or what?" A convulsion passed through the boy's body as an open palm came to rest over his heart. "You'll stick a bone through this kid's chest?" This time, Sans offered nothing. "Face it, Comedian, once she hears that shriek, the Queen'll be tripping over herself to open up the gates for me." Still, Sans offered nothing, not even a change in expression. His hands hung loose and relaxed at his sides as the demon wearing the child's face slowly began to back away. It needn't have been so cautious. "The game's over," were the words Bill left to him as a parting gift. "You've already lost."

Once he was finally out of sight, Sans allowed his dark, empty gaze to flick to Undyne, concern warring with apathy.

Then he was gone.

* * *

Further back, beneath the cover of the tunnel's ceiling, the prone form of a young girl began to glow, her body breaking down into small, glowing orbs that drifted apart, rising lazily towards the sky. Then, like a taut string had been broken, they snapped together in burst of light, returning to their former shape.

With a startled gasp, lungs rapidly inflated with their fill of air, desperate and starved. It scratched on the way down, its heat biting at her throat.

Harsh, sputtering coughs hit unforgiving stone, echoing through the cavern, but strangely, nobody came to investigate the sound.

Groaning, Mabel shifted onto her elbows, waking up as though from a dream, to find her body uninjured, her clothes mended.

She was alive.

And completely, horribly alone.


	22. Misery & Company

The soft clinks of earthenware echoed throughout Gerson's shop as he set about gathering up, wiping off, and putting away his favorite tea set. Once he'd heard about the humans in the Underground, he'd expected to find the king sulking at his counter, eventually. There were few monsters left who could converse with Asgore without any of the preconceptions or formalities naturally afforded by his position.

For that reason, Gerson always made sure to speak to him plainly and honestly, as though they were nothing more than two old friends shooting the breeze over golden flower tea. So when Asgore asked him, not for the first time, if the old tortoise believed that he was doing the right thing by his people, Gerson had bluntly admitted that, truthfully, he hadn't believed in the war with humanity for a very long time.

The visit had come to an abrupt end shortly after that.

Frustrated by his friend's stubbornness, Gerson allowed himself an exasperated huff as he stretched to place the cups on the highest shelf of his antique armoire. They teetered at the edge for several heart-stopping moments, before finally settling back against the glass. Gerson swore up and down that he was going to get a stepping stool, someday. Or perhaps he could convince Undyne to snag him some elevated heels? They always looked so snazzy on that Mettaton fellow.

Chuckling to himself, Gerson closed the armoire up, his thoughts once more falling on the despairing king as he returned to the front of his shop.

These days, Asgore wore his melancholy like a shield against reason. He wanted to be told that the path he'd chosen was correct, yet how could either of them truly know? For all that he wanted his friend to find happiness, Gerson would not lie to him. If he did not know for certain which path was correct, then he would not claim to. All he knew was that a freedom bought with the lives of children would come with its own chains.

At the approach of a looming shadow that darkened his doorstep, Gerson reached under his counter, his gnarled claw falling on the smooth shaft of his hammer, but before he could call out for this unexpected guest to introduce themselves, the boy from before staggered into his shop, dragging his feet with his head lowered, then slid heavily to the floor, his back pressed against the glass of Gerson's case.

"Oya, you're back!" Quickly releasing his hold on the hidden weapon, Gerson swiveled his long neck back and forth, searching. Hoping. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. "Where's the other troublemaker?" It was only then that he noticed the boy's shoulders were shaking, one arm cradling an injured appendage against his chest.

Peering over the counter, Gerson observed the broken finger with a sympathetic hiss. It was bent at an unnatural angle, and would require immediate attention to prevent any further injury. More than anything, though, he wanted to alleviate the boy's pain. Such a wound had to be agonizing.

This time, Gerson sacrificed his protection without a second thought, crossing the barrier line in long strides with a hastily wet washcloth and a roll of bandages. Even if there was a risk, there was no way he could just ignore another creature's suffering… Not when there was something he could do about it!

Careful to utilize slow and deliberate movements so as not to frighten the boy, Gerson crouched at his side. "Let me see it, boy-o," he asked, keeping his voice level and calm. Human or monster aside, anyone could become dangerous when injured and cornered. "This will only hurt for a second."

As he bent to gently take the boy's arm, fragments of a venomous yellow peeked through the gaps in his thick bangs. He raised his head, an action which should have brought some relief, but the grin plastered oddly on his face electrified the old warrior's instincts.

The boy's arm moved in a blur as Gerson launched himself away from him, falling back onto his shell with his claws digging into the ground as his chest screamed, lungs seizing from the line of fire cutting through his plastron.

After a quick inventory, he decided that while the wound wasn't fatal, it was incapacitating. He wasn't going anywhere.

Somehow, in spite of that, he managed a strained grin for the boy. " What happened, sonny?" He asked gently. "This isn't like you." He reached towards the human with an open palm, "Even now, there's still a choice. You don't have to be anything you don't want to be." For an instant, he thought he'd seen something shift in the boy, a flash of the earnest child he'd met previously fighting to rise to the surface, before silver ate at his forearm and Gerson jerked back, gripping the limb with a strangled yell.

So, this was how it was going to end, was it?

The shadow of the blade fell across his chest as Gerson's already failing vision whittled down to focus solely on the instrument of his impending death. After surviving the war and forging a new life, a new purpose for himself, to die at the hand of a human now…

It was a fitting end for the Hammer of Justice, but Gerson the wizened old shopkeeper would have preferred to swap stories with his king over steaming cups of golden flower tea.

One last time.

* * *

Startled, Mabel spared a glance over her shoulder. "Dipper?"

Strange.

She could have sworn she'd heard him crying.

Her legs wobbled, unsteady, as she straightened them out. Standing proved to be more of an effort than she was used to, but the weakness quickly passed. Impatient to find where her brother and Undyne had run off to, she hastily brushed some mystery soot off her sweater and skirt.

Glancing thoughtfully down at the uncomfortable stone floor she'd woken up on, she tried to remember how she'd wound up there in the first place. Nothing hurt, and her clothes were as good as new, but she would have remembered lying down.

Even stranger, she'd had scratches on her legs and arms before. And she'd been muddy from wandering around in Waterfall, so how was it that her outfit was practically spotless now?

She thought back, recalling a split second of agony so intense it was like someone had shoved a red-hot poker through her back. It'd whited out everything, clotted her ears, and obliterated her thoughts. The next thing she remembered was waking up.

Where was everyone? How much time had passed?

A sudden snap behind her made her jolt. She spun around, then retraced her steps to the cave's opening, where Dipper's journal popped and spat in a blaze that curled and blackened its pages. Beside it, the backpack the Innkeeper had given her had suffered a similar fate.

Beneath the deteriorating fabric, gold pieces glistened as though wet, their surfaces shining in the high temperature.

Careful to avoid the hot metal, Mabel stamped out the flames eating at the journal, though what little she managed to salvage crumbled to ash when she attempted to lift it.

All the observations Dipper had jotted down and the detailed drawings he'd worked so hard on were nothing but a charred mess now. He was going to be so upset when he found out. It was too bad that she couldn't ask Gerson for a new one really quick and replace it like their mom had tried to do with their goldfish once when they were seven. It hadn't worked because noticing little details like a slightly smaller fin was Dipper's _thing_ but if he hadn't already written in the notebook, it might have been worth a shot.

After checking out her surroundings again, Mabel decided that something didn't feel right. It was too quiet in the cavernous tunnel. Beneath its high ceilings, there was a thick, unnatural silence saturating everything. Once she was conscious of it, Mabel began to hum under her breath, anything to keep the worst of it at bay as she started making her way towards the giant, flashing Hotland welcome sign.

Blocks of ice the size of mini refrigerators floated lazily down a stream passing beneath the platform she walked on, bobbing too low for her arms to reach, so she continued on her way, pausing only to ponder briefly where they were all going.

There were more urgent matters to consider, such as what exactly was it that had happened while she was out? It wasn't like Dipper to leave her to fend for herself like this, unless...

Unless he was still fighting Undyne.

She had to find him.

Mabel sprinted past the neon lights, past an empty sentinel station covered in snow that should have completely melted in seconds, but nothing made sense anymore so the strangeness of that particular sight barely even registered before she quite literally stumbled upon a body.

Unsurprisingly, her first reaction upon finding the fish lady who'd been trying to kill her and brother not too long ago passed out on the bridge was to scream. Loudly.

Her former assailant was helpless, her pink tongue poking out limply from between her lips. The scorching heat had dried out her scales and scarlet hair, making her appear brittle as dried seaweed.

Though Mabel protested the overwhelming conflict presented to her by way of continuous outbursts of unearthly shrieking, her body sprang into motion. She leapt over the fallen warrior, raced to the barrel of water, lifted the remaining gallons of liquid with ease, then crossed the distance between her and Undyne once more in one or two strides before upending the entire barrel onto the back of Undyne's head.

It soaked through her hair, causing the rusty strands to stick to her neck as she recovered. Once she was back on her feet, Mabel warily put some distance between herself and the captain of the Royal Guard. If there were any lasting effects from the prolonged exposure, then the captain was hiding them well, and without anything nearby to defend herself with ( the river of magma didn't count ), running would be her best bet of surviving should Undyne decide to repay her for saving her life by trying to take her soul again.

Though Mabel remained tense, every muscle taut with nervous anticipation, Undyne's indiscernible expression held her still. "Your brother sucks," the captain said shortly, then curved her lips in a displease frown, as though finding the statement somewhat lacking.

Surprised into lowering her guard, Mabel lowered the empty barrel still held within her arms and shot back, "Where is he?! What did you do to him?"

Under Undyne's scrutinizing glare, Mabel lifted her head defiantly, refusing to back down. "You're telling me you don't know?"

Shifting uncomfortably at the unexpected direction the conversation had taken, Mabel asked, "Don't know what?"

Undyne's fins twitched. She turned slightly to glance at a single spot beneath the tunnel's ceiling. "I guess you wouldn't." She sighed, shaking her head. Mabel wondered if the heat wasn't taking a toll on her again. "Nevermind. Listen, I'm not sure if this is normal for humans or what, but you've been given a second chance. Forget about finding your brother," beneath the harshness of her words was an urgency that Mabel couldn't even begin comprehend, "and get out of here. I'll tell my men to let you pass." She was already marching across the bridge, muttering under her breath with an exhaustion that presented itself in the overly rigid manner in which she held herself, the plodding nature of her steps as each new stride came more labored than the one before it, "We've got more important things to deal with than a lost little girl."

"Wait!" Mabel called after her, throwing the barrel aside. It rolled off the bridge and into the molten rock flowing beneath it. The plastic disappeared beneath its surface in an instant that went without notice. "What's normal for humans? What second chance? What are even talking about?!" She wanted nothing more than to grab Undyne by the shoulders and shake her until she started making sense. A healthy dose of self-preservation managed to suppress that impulse, though it was a close call.

Halfway across the bridge, Undyne came to a sudden halt. "You died, kid," she said with deliberate slowness. She didn't look over her shoulder to face Mabel head-on, but instead glanced backwards, revealing a sliver of the pupil that trapped Mabel in its intensity. "Your brother and I both saw it happen." With her carefully neutral expression twisting into a bitter, self-deprecating smirk, she asked, "Who do you think lured me out here?"

* * *

It had to be a lie. Dipper wouldn't do that. He was a lot of things, nerdy, bossy, and total worrywart, but he wasn't cruel. He never went out of his way to hurt people for the sake of it. It wasn't in him. It wasn't who he was.

But what reason did Undyne have to lie? She wouldn't have walked into Hotland just so she could pass out and then blame Dipper for it. It had to all be some big misunderstanding. She could've been tricked by someone who looked a lot like Dipper. Someone besides his twin, of course.

And what was the big idea with telling her she'd died? Of course, she hadn't died. There wasn't a mark on her sweater, which admittedly was a little weird, but Mabel was pretty sure she'd be the first to know if she'd come back from the dead.

Deep in thought, with her brow furrowed and arms folded behind her, Mabel almost failed to notice the two guards obstructing the route on her left.

The guard with the helmet shaped like a bucket explained that Undyne had given them orders to block the elevators so the humans in the area couldn't get away. "They weren't even working until a short while ago, though. Guess, like, someone must've fixed them."

Perking up at that useful bit of information, Mabel asked the guard, "They're working? Where do they go?"

"Like, don't you know?" Beside him, the second horned guard cocked his head at her. "They take you right to MTT Resort." It was a good thing this monster loved to talk, because Mabel wasn't sure what she would have done if both had given her the silent treatment. "I heard there's even an elevator inside that'll take you straight to New Home so you can visit the king, but he's always very busy, so I doubt anyone'd want to bother him."

As a matter of fact, someone did.

If Dipper thought she was dead, then he must've been heading for the exit. If she could just find Asgore, then she could find the exit, and that's where her brother would be.

She was sure of it.

The route blocked by the guards wasn't her only option, though. There was also a square building marked LAB a few steps ahead, with automatic doors, crimson bulbs protruding from its sides, and coils running over its walls. It would be easier to bypass the guards by taking a detour through there, and Sans had said there was someone who could help in Hotland. Based on what little they'd had to go on, taking Dipper to a scientist would have made sense…

In fact, it made too much sense. If Sans had been waiting for them like he'd said he'd be, then taking Dipper to the laboratory would definitely be the first thing he would have done. Whether Dipper would have gone with him or not was a different story, but she had to be sure.

Tentatively, she approached the lab with small steps. Her eyebrows shot up when the automatic doors flew open, revealing the interior of a building so dark and expansive that there was no telling what lay within it. She thought she could hear the faint buzz of static, accompanied by a dim flickering of a screen and the whir and grind of working gears, but there wasn't anything to indicate that the place was inhabited.

"Dipper? You in there?" She called, just to be on the safe side. She hadn't expected an answer, but that didn't stop the silence from stinging.

Wary of walking into an abandoned building by herself, an action every horror movie in existence argued strongly against, she took a cautious step back, squeaking when the doors slammed shut in front of her, abruptly cutting off even the ambient mechanical noises.

She took a moment to gather herself, to harden herself against the disappointment.

What Pines in history had ever been content to do things the easy way, right? Wasn't time of the essence? There wasn't enough of it left to spend moping or brooding about one dead end. So, it turned out her hunch was wrong, so what? All it meant was that Dipper really was heading towards the exit, and if that plan flopped too, then she could always circle around and come back.

He still thought he was being hunted, and maybe he was right, but without her safety to worry about, something told her that the problems he'd been so concerned about before weren't his main priority, anymore. Problems like not hurting anyone. If she didn't find him soon, let him know she was okay, then there was a very real possibility of him doing something really super ultra dumb.

After making her way back to the guards and clearing her throat several times, mimicking the grown-ups she'd heard who'd made the same sound when signaling that they were about to say something of the utmost importance, though it usually wasn't half as important as they thought it was, Mabel proudly announced to the guards that she was a part of the recently formed Anti-Human Task Force.

Confused, the first guard muttered, "I've, like, never heard of any Anti-Human Task Force."

"That's because it's recent," she reiterated slowly, drawing inspiration from Undyne. "I have orders from the captain for you to let me through."

Despite the stern demeanor she'd assumed, they still seemed skeptical. "Shouldn't the captain have informed us of our new orders herself?"

With a fist propped up on her hip, Mabel testily asked the guards, "Haven't you been checking your walkie-talkies?"

"Uh, we don't have-"

"Am I to understand," Mabel quickly interrupted, "that you don't have walkie-talkies?" To her internal delight, the guards exchanged uncertain glances. "How is the captain supposed to contact you if something terrible happens on the other side of the Underground? Were you expecting her to waltz all the way back here and tell you in person?" Her fingers twitched at her sides, itching for a pen and a clipboard so she could really sell her performance as the top member of the elite team she'd just made up, but settled for frowning deeply until they lowered their heads in shame. "That's a demerit for each of you," she told them with the finality of a door shutting in their faces.

Okay, so that may have been going a little overboard.

"Wait!" The first guard exclaimed, edging slightly over to his right in an attempt to shield his partner from the brunt of her disapproval. Fists clenched, he humbly bowed his head. "It's not his fault. I should have remembered. Please give me his demerit as well."

The second guard rapidly shook his head, empathetically crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest to convey his feelings on the matter. Neither of them was willing to let the other take the blame.

Even though none of the Royal Guardsmen had ever had walkie-talkies in the first place. "Alright," Mabel relented, taking pity on them, "I'll let you both slide with a warning." They sighed in relief, until Mabel stepped right up to their armored legs, stared right up into the slits of their iron helmets, and growled, "Now, I'm not going to ask again. Move. Aside."

They immediately scrambled to clear the path, throwing up hasty salutes as she strode past with her chin held high, all the while suppressing a smile that might have given away the ruse, until she was finally out of sight and her whole demeanor shifted, brightened, becoming steady and gentle as the sky at dawn, when the sun first peeked over the horizon and the world blinked awake to the growing warmth in its soil.

The elevator they were guarding was located inside a towering silver column, beneath green lights shaped like gigantic jellybeans and a blinking orange L1. Its doors were propped open by the thick, leafy vines wrapped around them, which couldn't have grown naturally. Not in Hotland's extreme temperatures. Plus, the elevator was obviously used often, or the guards wouldn't have bothered staking it out for wayward humans.

First he scared her out of her wits, now he was apparently going out of his way to help her… Just what game was that nasty little jerk playing at?

If there had been more time, Mabel would have kept searching until she found the stairs, but there wasn't, which left the elevator as her best option. "Alright, Flowey, I'll bite," she conceded, having made up her mind, "but don't think for a second that I'm not going to find out what you're up to." Though the thorns caught at her sweater, scratched shallow grooves into her cheeks, and snagged at wayward strands of her loose hair, she squeezed through the gap, tugging until her sleeves came free and her feet stumbled onto the elevator's checkered floor.

Glancing behind her, though there wasn't even a silhouette to suggest that she wasn't truly as alone as she seemed, Mabel mumbled a grudging, "Thanks."

A little gratitude never killed anyone, right?

* * *

The elevator, once she had time to fully admire it, was pleasantly spacious, and much larger than its appearance had suggested, though whether it was smaller on the outside or bigger on the inside, Mabel couldn't decide.

Frowning, Mabel closed her eyes and ran a hand over the panel of switches, waiting for a sign, a premonition or a feeling, anything that could tell her which floor would take her closest to the resort the guards had told her about, but her nonexistent psychic powers must have been on the fritz, because none of the switches particularly stood out to her. "When in doubt," she muttered, flipping the knob for Right Floor 3, "it's best to pick the _right_ one."

The third floor was also highest floor, which meant it was the closest to the surface. She may not have been able to read Dipper's mind, but she knew it well enough to have a good grasp of how his brain worked, so if he was searching for a way back to the top of the mountain, then she was positive he'd pick the third floor.

The pun had been her idea, but maybe wherever he was, he was thinking of her, too. He might have even been groaning.

She smiled at the thought.

The automatic doors flew open with a cheerful ding and a satisfying _whoosh_ , and she sucked in her chest as she wiggled through the gap again.

Once she was outside, she noticed the long set of steep stairs leading even higher. It was exactly the kind of thing she'd been hoping for, but the Nice Cream vendor sulking right beside it? Not so much.

He was leaning heavily against his cart with a gloomy expression, his drooping ears contrasting with the bright sunniness of his yellow shirt and red pants.

She wanted to keep moving, to find her brother or to find Sans, or anyone who could help her start to make things better, but he was all melty, drippy and sad as a forgotten popsicle on a summer's day, which was too important for her to ignore.

Had anyone asked him how his day was going or even if he was okay? If she didn't do it now, then who would?

Standing in the elevator had given her a brief respite from the boil-the-flesh-off-your-bones dry wind that made her feel like she'd been tossed inside of an active volcano, but the relief passed as she ventured towards the rabbit monster. Her tongue scraped against the roof of her mouth, searching for moisture.

"Hey," she gave a small wave, suppressing a wince at the raspiness of her voice. At her halting approach, the Nice Cream seller perked up, but not to anywhere near the levels of carefree cheerfulness he'd displayed in Snowdin. He'd listened to her worries, then. And given her one of his frozen treats without charge, even though he'd already been hurting for business.

The least she could do was return the favor.

With a huff, she rested her chin on the cool metal of his cart, staring up at him through her bangs as his long ears began to twitch, betraying his interest. Though his mouth curved into the right shape, not even a hint of the tight smile he'd willed into being reached his eyes. "Well, if it isn't my best customer," he said jokingly, flashing a wink. "What is it that brings you over to Hotland?"

"Actually, I'm looking for my brother," Mabel told him without preamble. "Have you, by any chance, seen a boy walking around in a red shirt, a long orange scarf, and a silly white hat with a pine tree on it?"

Tapping his chin, the Nice Cream guy tried to recall if he'd seen anyone matching that description. "I'm sorry, but I can't say that I have." He drooped again, adding under his breath, "Today's been full of disappointments."

"You want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe there's something I can do to make your day a little more super?" It'd make her feel better, too.

In starts and stops, the older teen explained that he'd gone out on a limb by starting his own business. A friend of his from college worked for a fast food restaurant called the MTT Brand Burger Emporium in Mettaton's resort. Everyday, he made Glamburgers and steaks in the shape of Mettaton's face, and they sold right off the shelves, but the Nice Cream guy had always dreamed of striking it out on his own, of seeing the faces of his fellow monsters light up when they pulled off the wrappers of their sweet desert to find the nice sayings printed inside.

He'd tried everywhere now, but it seemed no one was interested in buying his product.

He suddenly swiveled to glance around, making sure they were alone. "There are rumors," he whispered, "that there's a human loose in the Underground. Most of the monsters are too afraid to go outside, let alone buy my Nice Cream." His shoulders slumped with dejection. "Sorry. I got carried away and rambled on all by myself." He looked up, only to blink several times in confusion upon noticing that the natural rosiness of Mabel's cheeks had diminished to a sickly grey pallor. "Hey, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded slowly, not immediately trusting herself to open her mouth. "There are two guards on the ground floor who both look like they could use something cold," she managed. "Why don't you go see if they'd like to buy a Nice Cream or two?"

Despite her deflection, the Nice Cream guy hesitated, still skeptical. "You're heading to the resort, right?" Although he was in desperate need of customers, the thought of letting her wander around the Underground alone didn't sit right with him. "You sure you don't want me to walk you there?"

Already waving goodbye as she backtracked towards the stairs, Mabel wearily shook her head. "You don't have to worry about me," she quietly insisted. "I'm actually meeting up with someone who can help." It didn't wipe the worry from his brow entirely, but that was okay. His gut told him he could trust her not to lie to him.

And she hadn't. As long as she found someone in the resort who could help, then it wasn't a lie. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't.

But it wasn't the truth, either.

Traces of the reassurance twisted in her mouth, tasting sour on her tongue.

Pretending not to see his lingering concern, she quickly wished him luck, then darted up the stairs without looking back.

* * *

Bill watched with unrepentant glee as the enraged Moldbygg expanded rapidly, becoming a gyrating tower of sentient mold that loomed protectively over the tiny pile of white powder at its base.

After the old tortoise's unfortunate demise, Pine Tree had grown strangely quiet, as though he'd used up all his screams trying to stop him from committing the deed, but now those shouts of protest came back in full force. It was the only background noise that Bill truly couldn't get enough of.

"Alright, buddy, I'm starting to get the sense that we got off on the wrong foot." The Moldbygg burbled fiercely at him, its hatred evident despite its limited vocalizations. Delighted, Bill forced the stolen face he wore to mirror his pleasure, "How about I make it up to ya by filling you in on the exact date and time of your death? Here, let me give you a hint."

A light breeze drifting through the marsh picked up grains of the small pile of dust, scattering them into the dirt and across the water's surface. Stiffening in a silent cry, the Moldbygg moved to shield what remained with its body.

It made no move to avoid Bill's strike. It took the wound across the long side of its segmented form, twisted around to rattle fiercely, seemingly in preparation of an attack, before its body gave out, dissipating into a fine grain that joined with the white powder below it.

Standing over the remains of the monsters he'd felled, Bill mocked, "Ha! Was that enough of a hint, slimeball?" Then spitefully kicked their dust into the stream.

* * *

The red carpet rolling out from the MTT Resort's front entrance was unexpected. It strived to give the impression that everyone who walked into the building was a movie star.

There were overgrown bushes in the flowerbeds below the windows, and a checkered canopy over the spotless glass doors.

A stray piece of printed paper scraped against the ground by her feet. It was an advertisement for a place offering great deals in the "creepy alleyway on the right."

Nice try, random piece of paper, but if she wasn't going to venture into an empty condominium of science all by her lonesome then she definitely wasn't going to go wandering into dark alleys. She didn't need Dipper around to tell her how much of a bad idea that was, even if she'd have preferred hearing it from him.

Putting the advertisement out of her mind, she strutted inside, even stopping to give her luxurious hair a theatric flip. Once through the doors, Mabel found that she couldn't swivel her head around fast enough. There was a fountain that spurted water from a boxy statue of a robot, whose appearance bore an uncanny of the Mettaton action figure Papyrus had showed her in his bedroom. Taking the name of the resort she was passing through into account, Mabel concluded that the statue was meant to resemble Mettaton, too. She'd never heard of a robot running a resort, but even if that turned out to be the case, it still wouldn't be the strangest discovery she'd made since arriving in the Underground.

It was close, but the dancing, singing mushroom still ranked higher on the weirdness scale.

Naturally, a multicolored piece of origami then welcomed her into the hotel lobby, thereby tossing all the rankings right out the window. Once the chipper receptionist had finished their routine spiel, altered slightly since she quite obviously wasn't booking a room to stay the night, she slipped into the closest room and threw up her hands in exasperation. "This is all starting to get a little too strange for me," she confided to the large yellow fish monster at the restaurant receptionist's desk. Their lime green beret slid to rest on one of the delicate fins protruding from their head as they nodded to convey their tacit agreement, because she was the customer, and the customer was always right.

Except that she wasn't. Not really. Not without any pockets or a backpack full of gold to burn. But if they thought she was, then who was she to clear up that misunderstanding?

It was only when the receptionist began to peruse their list of reservations for her name that she started to sweat. At least until she noticed Sans sitting alone at a table towards the back. He looked up, somehow sensing her eyes on him. His sockets widened slightly at the sight of her before flickering pupils returned to trace the patterns on his lavender tablecloth. "See that skeleton?" She asked the receptionist. "I'm with him."

Although not completely convinced, the receptionist nodded again, allowing her to jog past the other patrons and stand at Sans' side. "Where were you?" She blurted when, instead of acknowledging her presence, he idly poked the sharp tip of his finger bone through a loose thread in the fabric. "I know you told us what to do with Undyne, but Dipper and I really could have used your help back there."

The silence which greeted her statement lasted long enough for her to wonder if Sans somehow couldn't hear her. Before she could repeat what she'd said, though, she heard him mutter, "kid, if you'd really needed me, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A server hurriedly passed their table. Sans gave a small wave to catch their attention, which they pretended not to notice. "honestly. what's a skeleton got to do to get a bottle of ketchup in this establishment?"

Taking a seat across from him, she fixed him with a bemused frown. "You didn't answer my question. What do you mean I wouldn't be here? Where else would I be?"

Wholly unconcerned, Sans lifted and lowered his shoulders in an easy shrug. "so, you don't remember? well, good for you, I guess. given the option, i wouldn't want to remember my death, either."

Death?

Undyne had said something about her dying, too, but she hadn't believed it. She'd thought it all been one giant misunderstanding, a simple glitch in perspective blown to epic proportions. If that wasn't what happened, if Dipper really watched her die, then what was left to stop him from giving up? He'd been fighting two battles this whole time, one with her and one all by himself, and now he was alone.

Again, she forced herself to remember the instant before she'd woken up on the cave floor, to recall the pain, the explosion that traveled through her back, that detonated her blood cells, wiped out her mind.

Sitting there in that restaurant, Mabel cringed at the smell of lightning. Suppressing a groan, she wrapped her arms around her midsection, hugging herself.

There hadn't been a misunderstanding. Dipper really had seen her die.

She curled in on herself, shrinking, feeling the impact of the realization like a spring-loaded boxing glove to the stomach.

While she fought the urge to burrow her head into her sweater – without Dipper around to hug her out of Sweater Town, there was no telling how long she'd stay – Sans attempted to catch the attention of another passing waiter. "look, i'm not asking for much," he told the closest server, whose reptilian features froze as though simultaneously bemoaning his fate and enforcing a sort of self-imposed paralysis to keep his slitted eyes from rolling. "just get me a ketchup bottle and a straw, and you won't hear another peep outta me."

He wasn't looking at her, was putting more effort than he'd like to admit into tuning out the hitches in her breathing, her lowered head, her despair. It was how he missed the scrape of her seat against the tile when she pushed away from the table.

The server beat a hasty exit, abandoning a mildly confused Sans to the mercy of the little girl with the dining room chair lifted high over her head. "If you weren't there," she ground out from across the table, her voice unnervingly flat though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, "then how did you know I died?"

It's difficult to pull off a nervous gulp without any saliva, but the startled noise of dismay Sans uttered in that moment served as a worthy substitute.

Although it wouldn't do him any good should she decide to actually toss that chair at his head, Sans raised his palms, holding them in front of him in a defensive gesture. "woah, easy there, kid. i'm not as durable as i look."

She finally had his attention.

As the pieces began to come together, a budding hope swelled inside her. "If you were there," Sans was already shaking head, but she wouldn't – couldn't stop, "then you must have seen Dipper." His pupils flickered, white to black and white again. Witnessing her begin to shatter under the pressure of a desperate, baseless hope was challenging his practiced apathy, a fact which Sans truly did not appreciate. "You have to tell me where he went!"

The other customers were staring at them. The receptionist was on the phone, throwing anxious glances their way. If he didn't calm her down real fast, they were both going to be unceremoniously thrown out, which may have worked out well for her, since she didn't want to be there, anyway, but Sans didn't feel much like finding a new hidey-hole to wallow in while the ball got rolling on this timeline's inevitable apocalypse.

He told her he would tell her what she needed to know, as long as she put the chair down and sat in it. "Give me one good reason," her lips curled, revealing the sturdy wires of her braces as she scowled, "why I should believe _anything_ you have to say to me right now!"

"pretty sure i've saved your life, once or twice. think that'll suffice?" It was evident in the way the reminder of her harrowing encounter with Flowey in Snowdin Forest deflated her that so much had happened since the rescue that, until Sans brought it up, it couldn't have been further from her mind. Suddenly exhausted, she lowered the chair to the ground, before collapsing heavily onto its seat.

"i saw something that looked a lot like your brother," Sans began once he was sure she wasn't going to try to throw the table, "but it wasn't him. whatever it was you were trying to save him from, it's too late now."

She didn't believe that. Not for a second. It was never too late.

What was it Dipper had told her outside of Gerson's? He'd had a theory about monster SOULs, which was why he'd asked the elderly tortoise about it, but…

Maybe it was time for a second opinion.

"Can you tell me if a monster soul can forcefully fuse with a human soul?"

There was a light scraping sound as Sans ran a skeletal palm over his brow. "hate to tell ya this, kiddo, but you're barking up the wrong tree. a monster's soul isn't durable enough to last long after death, let alone retain any sort of will." Though it wasn't like he hadn't considered it. "there have been cases where monsters have managed to last through sheer determination but…" He glanced to the side. "the determination required to do that destroys them almost as fast." Then turned a suddenly burning, star bright gaze solely on Mabel. "once we're out of gas, it doesn't matter how strong or brave we are… in the end, all we can really do is die."

He paused to allow time for that to sink in. It wasn't about making her miserable. Everyone knew that misery loved company, but Sans had never much cared for the tastes of his own particular brand of misery.

No, it was about making a last ditch effort to save what remained of that brilliant spark inside her. "kid, the best thing for you to do now would be to forget about all this and go home."

Leaning forward with her palms laid flat on the table, Mabel narrowed her eyes into a hard glare, staring him down with her jaw set, "If you really want me to leave, then you better get off your keister and help me find my brother, because I am _never_ going to leave here without him."

Though she kept her muscles taut as she waited for Sans to respond, her chest rose and fell at a rapid, labored pace as the silence continued to stretch, interrupted only by the occasional clatter of dishes in the kitchen and snippets of conversation from the diners seated near the entrance.

Eventually, she settled back into her seat, emptied out and strangely hollow after her declaration. Her listless gaze found the flame swaying at the tip of the candle placed on the center of their table. Drops of melted wax pooled at the top, then spilled over, quickly cooling once separated form their source of heat.

There was a hypnotic quality to the steady drip, the thriving fire. "If I'm supposed to be dead," she distantly heard herself say, as though listening in on a dream, "then how are we talking right now?"

At first, she thought Sans wasn't going to answer, that he was all talked out or just plain tired of speaking with her, but she didn't have to wait long before he shifted uncomfortably and said, "that's a bit of a loaded question, actually."

He flagged down a female server with an otter's snout, asked for a rubber band, which wasn't on the menu but the server appeared to be so relieved that he wasn't asking for ketchup this time that she immediately slipped a spare hair tie off her wrist for Sans to hold onto. Once she'd bustled off to check on the other customers, Sans poked two phalanges through the elastic and then pulled them apart to serve as a visual aid. "let's say you stretch a rubber band. it looks completely different, right? but its core remains the same. once it's stretched, though, you basically have two options: you can either let the band break, or allow it to snap back to its original form."

After making sure she was following him, he continued, "now, I've got a theory that whatever's driving your bro around is forcing the rubber band to keep stretching, which is why you're still here. you've got a power inside you that can rewrite time itself, but since that wasn't an option, it did the next best thing and rewrote you, instead."

"And what happens to the alterations when the rubber band finally snaps back?" Mabel persisted, filing away the information that she apparently had a superpower for when her brain didn't feel so much like it was about to explode. "What happens to the things that made it different?"

"with the exception of a few points of strain, they might as well have never existed."

"Enough with the vagueness, already. What exactly does that mean?"

Sans shrugged. "it means that any and all aberrations to this timeline are temporary. when the band breaks," his fingers jerked in opposite directions, snapping the elastic. He dangled it for a moment, then dropped it on the table, "it's replaced by one that's completely identical, without any of the damage or strain that you inflicted on the original. you could even say it's a little like traveling to the past."

"Is that what me and Dipper are to you? Aberrations?" She wasn't entirely sure what the word meant, but she was running full throttle on emotion and intuition, instinctively making connections based on context that would never have occurred to her, otherwise. "Is that why you don't want to help? Because we're temporary?"

Her hands fisted around the tablecloth, gathering it up in huge clumps. The candlestick stick tottered, threatening to tip. A subtle blue glow surrounded it before it could fall, and stabilized it. "I thought you were my friend." She slackened, utterly drained. "I guess that made one of us."

The skeleton's profile, cast in harsh shadows by the flickering candlelight, could have been etched in stone, but the slightly hunched set of his shoulders, the perpetual grin that looked almost pained, made her think of cracked glass, a broken window that would shatter into a million pieces if the right amount of pressure were applied in exactly the right place.

"…it's a little more complicated than that." It wasn't a denial or an explanation. Mabel saw it for what it really was – stalling – and ignored it. He'd had his chance to talk.

Burying her fatigue, she pushed forward. "Maybe we're not going to be here forever, but so what?" Though the words were posed as a challenge, a quiet sadness kept her voice level. "We're here now, aren't we? Everything we do, everything that happens to us, it matters because we matter." With a huge, sweeping gesture, she added, "So whether you decide to help me save my brother or just sit here feeling sorry for yourself, that matters, too."

Behind them, starting from the exit, a low murmuring began to sweep through the restaurant, but Mabel didn't bother with it, not when Sans was finally looking at her. She held his gaze for a small eternity. Neither spoke, though Mabel silently begged him to, so she could know, once and for all, if anything she'd said had reached him.

Finally, she hissed out a frustrated sigh through clenched teeth and rows of braces, then pushed against the table, sliding back in her chair to give herself some room to slip from the seat. "I'd rather not to have to do this by myself, but with or without your help, I _am_ going to save my brother, and there is not a thing under the ground or above it that is going to stop me."

There was a clatter of silverware behind them. Mabel glanced over her shoulder to see the other patrons standing up to leave. All of them. "what's going on?" She spun to see Sans standing next to her, though his attention was focused on the burly construction monsters as they milled towards the door.

"The Royal Guard's initiated an emergency evacuation," one of them called back. "Something's going down in Waterfall."

Waterfall. That had to be where Dipper was.

She launched herself forward, intent on racing to Waterfall on foot, even swimming there if that's what it came to, but a sudden tightening around her collar stopped her short. The slender bone hooked through her sweater felt cool against the nape of her neck, especially so since she was burning with impotent rage.

"confronting your brother the way he is now will only get you killed," Sans told her. "you need to come up with a plan." She twisted, snapping at him to let her go. He acquiesced without comment and released his grip, though he remained close, watching her carefully as she rubbed her neck and irritably readjusted her sweater. "you haven't seen alphys yet, have you?"

Shooting him a wary glare, Mabel asked him, "Al-who?"

Clearly out of his depth, Sans shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his spinal column with an audible scraping. "good question. she's the friend i said could help. if anyone can help your brother now, it's her."

Her reaction was instantaneously, anger falling away in her eagerness to hear more. "Can you tell me where I can find her?"

He started heading towards the exit, confident in the knowledge that she would follow, which she did, taking long strides to keep up with the surprisingly fast pace he'd set. "kid, i'm gonna do you one better, and introduce you."

* * *

A/N:Whew. I was worried about getting this updated before the hurricane took out my power, but it seems like the electricity's holding out for now. Fingers crossed.

gsv vmw lu gsv dliow rh uli pvgxsfk zmw xlmgvnkozgrlm


	23. Lost Stars

**A/N: Not counting the epilogue, this is the penultimate chapter, which means it's time for Bill to show what a truly despicable villain he is. Naturally, there are some very dark themes in this chapter. Be careful.**

 **...**

* * *

She was charged as they made their way towards the lab, buzzing like a live wire, every atom alight and electric as she strived to fill the spooky silence hanging over them with sound. It was like speaking into a void. The absence of the monsters who'd evacuated – Sans may have mentioned that monsters were drilled from a young age to treat any evacuation ordered by the Royal Guard with life-or-death seriousness – sucked away any meaning to her words, but that didn't stop her from asking the skeleton questions as they walked.

Was she a superhero now? Was turning back time her superpower? Circling around him in a tireless orbit, she quickly grew impatient with his deliberately slow pace, but never strayed too far from the careful calm he exuded, gravity keeping her close. Despite her apparent interest and enthusiasm, she barely paused in her incessant chatter long enough to draw in an unsteady breath, shutting out the possibility of any response the skeleton could have offered.

She was ready for the questions but not yet for the answers. Once in a while, Sans regarded her with a knowing gaze, but didn't press the issue, content to simply nod occasionally as the babble washed harmlessly over him.

He didn't seem surprised to discover that the guards posted by the bridge had left their stations. On the other hand, though, nothing seemed to surprise him very much.

Mabel wished something would. She wished he would shout or grit his teeth or wring his hands anxiously as he fretted over the plan she was so certain he had. Sans was smart like Dipper was smart and he could fix things - she just knew it! But unlike Dipper, walking with the skeleton the way he was now didn't keep her from feeling lonely.

Loneliness, at least, was a quiet thing, intrinsically tied with absence. If she made enough noise, if she giggled and smiled and twirled and denied, denied, denied…

Maybe she could drown the loneliness, too.

She hadn't realized she'd trailed off, head hung low, arms crossed over the vibrant heart sewed over her chest, until the tip of a slender finger hooked through one of her sleeves. She started, surprised to find Sans watching her with an inscrutable expression. At her silent question, he gestured down to the edge, glancing pointedly at the lava – Or was it, magma? – flowing like molten metal against the jagged rocks below. "stay away from the edge, kiddo. you're making me nervous."

He moved ahead of her as the path widened, stepping into the middle of the crossroads from before with the same mechanical ease of an employee getting ready to clock in to work. The automatic doors slid open at his approach, as he must have known they would, because he never broke stride, waltzing straight into the building as though he had every right to be there.

The lights flicked on, casting the single, expansive room in an overly bright illumination that brought every pile of loose paper and towering stack of used noodle bowls into sharp clarity. Mabel poked her head in. "How'd you do that?"

"the lights here are motion activated. that said, them being off doesn't usually mean no one's home. most of the time, it just means that whoever's living here isn't moving very much." He visibly suppressed a wince at his choice of words, something Mabel could have mentioned, but decided not to.

He'd already told her so much, she reminded herself, and he didn't have to help her. If he wanted to keep a few secrets to himself, and if it didn't get in the way of saving Dipper, then she could pretend she didn't see. And if there was a hiss of relief at her sudden distraction with the wall, then it must have slipped her notice.

"come on," Sans said as he waved her inside, "you have to find al and i have to find a couch. these tired bones are in serious need of a place to rest."

"Yeah?" Mabel muttered in an off hand manner, her attention already drifting towards the humongous monitor broadcasting her face. She cocked her head, a bemused smirk playing at her lips as the Mabel on the screen did the same. The tiny quirk of her mouth faltered at the mess of knots in her hair, at the darkening half-moons beneath round, shining brown eyes. "On the surface," frustrated, she tried to comb out the knots with her fingers, only to quickly find her hand ensnared by the tangles, "we call a place like that a coffin."

Sans, who'd been nudging files strewn across the floor with the fluffy toe of his slipper, glanced curiously back at her. "you know, for a cute kid, you sure say some scary things, sometimes."

A burst of hydraulics coming from further inside interrupted whatever it was he was going to say next. Another set of automatic doors opened up, then out stepped a bespectacled reptilian woman in a lab coat. She was small, roughly Mabel's size, and accompanied by the very boxy robot whose likeness was apparently _everywhere_ in the Underground.

He rolled alongside her on a single wheel, cartoonish gloved hands outstretched with their palms facing upward in a beseeching manner. "Alphys, darling, it's time to call off the show. An evacuation's been called for the entire Underground. If you don't want me to fight the human, then it's time for us to go."

Though her shoulders hunched, betraying her anxiety, she stubbornly shook her head, drawing an exasperated sigh from the robot. "S-sans said the human n-needed my help. I c-can't leave, yet."

Mabel edged closer to Sans, who waited patiently for the duo to notice their presence. Because Alphys refused to raise her head, Mettaton noticed them first, one hand reaching out to rest on the lizard lady's shoulder until she glanced up at him in confusion, then swung towards the direction he faced with a skepticism that quickly morphed into shock.

Sans gave a friendly wave, "yo."

The pixelated squares on Mettaton's main panel rippled upon his spotting the human that peeked out from behind the skeleton to give a tentative wave of her own, blinking in agitated waves that produced deceptively pleasant tones. "And what do we have here?" He rolled towards Mabel, fists propped against his sides as he examined her. Mabel shied away, torn between using Sans as a shield and retreating further towards the exit, but these were the friends who were supposed to help them, so she settled for shifting so that the skeleton was constantly between her and the overly curious, sickly sweet television. "Sans, I'd heard rumors that you'd been helping the humans, but to think you would lead them to our doorstep." Instead of upset, the robot sounded almost pleased. There was more to it than that, though. Something concealed beneath the sugary façade that she couldn't place. Unbeknownst to her, Sans tensed, having recognized the very thing she'd missed. "And with so little time for me to prepare!"

'look," the skeleton started, placating, "alphys knows why I'm here. now's not really a good time for your killer robot shtick," the reptilian scientist clapped her claws over her mouth, mortified, "so why don't we put that on hold for the time being?"

"And let a perfectly good performance go to waste?"

"i'm sure you'll get another chance to act like a crazed narcissist."

"And I'm sure you'll get your chance to act like a functioning member of society, " Mettaton fired back with waspish cheer, "but some of us have a tendency for seizing fate by the reins and driving it towards the path we choose, not waiting listlessly for it to show us the way."

Ignoring the protests of both Alphys and Mabel, Sans closed the distance between himself and the robot, grabbed him by the crinkly insulation tubes that functioned as his limbs, and forcibly spun him around.

Mettaton flailed his arms, outraged by the perceived manhandling. Skeletal fingers pressed against his switch located towards the middle of his main body, roughly between what could be called Mettaton's shoulders, "i can't take you seriously when you look like this," and slid it to the opposite side of the notch.

The robot went so still that Mabel ran to it, fearing Sans had turned it off. "Did you. Just flip. My switch?" Letting out a sigh of relief, Mabel allowed her muscles to relax, only to stiffen and yelp when Sans' cold hands clapped over her ears.

"Hey," she groused, "what's the big idea?

"trust me, kid, i'm doing you a favor.

To her horror, the robot's gloved hands flew to its monitor as its screen malfunctioned, overheating. His panels blinking in a mad frenzy, Mettaton began to convulse. He jerked, shaking uncontrollably as Mabel begged for someone to help him, until a blinding white light overwhelmed her vision, and the muffling pressure on her ears increased.

Once she finished blinking away the bursts of spots that haphazardly obscured her sight, she noticed the robot had shed its rudimentary form for a more humanoid appearance.

The glittering pupils in Sans' sockets rolled, circling in exasperation as Mabel strained to hear what the robot with the gyrating pelvis was saying. It was hard to make out words, but whatever Mettaton was saying in his low, sultry tones, it sounded as though he were really enjoying himself. The impression of enthusiasm diminished, however, when he realized she couldn't hear his speech.

Aiming his attention at the skeleton, Mettaton said, "So, you said you couldn't take me seriously in my old body?" Sans gave a noncommittal shrug, clearly wishing he were somewhere – anywhere else.

Having discerned more in the simple gesture, some additional layer of meaning that may or may not have existed, Mettaton's affable smile turned frigid, his cool, calculating gaze gaining a cruel glint when he replied, "Darling, I'd say the same, but we both know flipping a switch wouldn't do you any good in that regard."

Growing anxious, Mabel tugged insistently on Sans' sweater, trying to remind him of why he'd brought her to the lab in the first place. "Sans, didn't you say you were going to introduce me to your friend?"

Alphys looked relieved at the interruption, but neither Sans nor Mettaton seemed to notice. "ha." A flat, mirthless chuckle crept out from between the skeleton's clenched jaws. "with jokes that funny, you should take up comedy."

"Oh, if only I had the time, darling. It's a shame that the Underground is rather lacking in its supply of competent comedians."

With no sign of either of them backing down, Mettaon exacerbated the conflict by leaning forward, intruding on the skeleton's personal space in a deliberate attempt to rile him up, with a cocky, vaguely suggestive smirk playing at the corners of his painted synthetic lips.

Before Sans could react, however, Alphys stepped between them, placing a light touch over their chests that served more as a reminder of their surroundings than any physical restraint. If they truly wanted to fight, she doubted she could stop them, but it wasn't like Sans to let himself be goaded.

"That's enough, you two," she told them without any trace of her usual stutter. "Sans, didn't you come here because we have more important things to worry about?"

Mortified, by how eagerly he'd dived into the possibility for distraction, Sans turned his head sharply to check on Mabel. She was pale-faced and frightened, with spots of angry red blossoming over her round cheeks.

Disappointment. Hurt. Suspicion.

Everything he hadn't wanted to see stared back at him, an old, easily recognizable expression on an unfamiliar face.

Seeing confusion begin to cloud her brow, Sans attempted to add a modicum of authenticity to his grin, hoping it could serve the dual purpose of putting her at ease and conveying the regret he felt for not getting his head on straight sooner.

To his surprise, after a moment of searching, her mouth began to curve in a slow, honest smile.

Realizing the skeleton had lowered his guard, Mettaton sidestepped to get around him and closer to the human girl. It didn't work. Sans threw a protective arm out in front of her, shielding her from the robot's advance. "woah, slow down there. this human hasn't hurt anyone."

"Which is another way of saying one of them has, isn't it?" Mabel tensed, fists balling at her sides as Mettaton continued in a voice so low it bordered on a whisper, as menacing as it was intimate and personal, an arrow aimed at the heart, "Tell me, what gave you the right to risk the lives of every monster in the Underground? Did you want that badly to feel like a hero?"

Before Alyphys could interfere again, something like real pain flickered across the skeleton's features, and Mabel, seeing it, hating it, rushed to push the rogue machine away from him. "Please!" She exclaimed, glancing anxiously at each of the monsters present. "We're not here to fight!" From where he stood, Mettaton's eyes narrowed, gears turned in his mind, each piece falling into place. "I just want to save my brother. He's not… He's… sick, I think," she finished weakly, inwardly cringing at how embarrassing it felt to be asking these monsters for help when not even she knew exactly what was wrong with him.

"You didn't explain to him what's going on?" The mild accusation in Sans' tone set Alphys on edge. She bristled, yanking her phone out of a lab coat pocket so she could show him the display of her last received text.

" _The humans are in trouble_ ," she read. " _Need your help. Get extractor ready._ " After shoving the phone back in her pocket, she sighed, " How can I explain it to him when I barely know what's going on, Sans? Can you really blame him for being confused?"

Naturally, Mettaton ignored them, opting instead to pounce on the opportunity to edge closer to Mabel.

And though she stood her ground, Mabel refused to take her eyes off him, watching him with the ceaseless caution of a cornered mouse observing a cat. "Your brother's emptying the Underground, princess," he told her, poisonous affability present in every curve of his new form, leaving little doubt that the celebrity with the boy band haircut, though pretty to look at, was thornier than a rosebush beneath his pleasant exterior. "But if we take your soul and break the barrier, who knows how many more monsters will survive?"

"You're lying! Dipper's not like that!" At the child's shout, Mettaton found himself hesitating, having momentarily lost some of his trademark smugness at the sheer earnestness of the display. Hugging her arms as though cold, Mabel continued on to say in a smaller voice, "He's not going to hurt anyone."

Sans paused in his conversation to shoot the automaton an annoyed glare.

With an intentionally flippant roll of the eyes, Mettaton parted his lips to comment, before a cacophonic screech cut him off. The monitor close to the entrance had suddenly dissolved into flurries of static. Alphys rushed over to the controls. There was a compartment inside the desk that popped outwards at her touch, revealing a keyboard with several dials framing its sides. Claws clicked against plastic as she furiously tried to run a diagnostic. "Someone's hacked into my system! They're overriding my cameras."

Mabel raced to her side, intent on helping if she could, though her knowledge of computer programming was veritably nonexistent. Sans and Mettaton followed suit, each of them keeping a wary eye on the screen as they made their way over, their past enmity forgotten in the face of the more immediate threat. "what's the diagnostic say, al?"

While pawing a scaled hand through the angular spikes atop her head, the scientist explained that the scan showed no damage or alterations to the internal matrix, and the hardware was untouched. "It's not the computer, Sans." She sounded frightened, haunted. She'd already reached her rope's end, and was now struggling to function in freefall.

Heart going out to her, Mabel wrapped a hand around her paw, offering a brief but hopefully reassuring squeeze. She couldn't read the expression that passed over the scientist. She'd never seen anything like it before, but then the static on the screen began to cluster, forming an image, and her curiosity was promptly forgotten.

The image cleared. The entrance to Napstablook's house stretched over the screen.

Mettaton sucked in a sharp breath. It whistled through his chest cavity, betraying the humanity of the machine as he pressed his lips together in a thin line, gaze glued to the lone figure of a boy shambling, swaying, bending unnaturally as he crept into the house.

The image shifted, showing Napstablook hovering by his computer, perusing the music forums for inspiration, unaware of the intruder slipping into his home.

With her typing increasing in its urgency, Alphys' short fangs tugged anxiously at her bottom lip, while at the same time, Mettaon leaned over her to set segmented palms on the desk's surface. There was a groan as the plastic creaked and warped under his grip, but judging from the intensity of the focus he was aiming at the screen, either the sound didn't register or he was well past the point of caring about appearances.

Upon seeing the figure's face, Mabel cried out her brother's name, "Dipper!" Relief coursed through her, a cool balm on a wound, until he stopped, raised his head to stare directly into the camera, revealing poison yellow eyes with the dark lines of slitted pupils stretching thin and jagged over the iris, and winked. A chill stole into her blood. "…Dipper?"

Jabbing a thumb at Napstablook's floating form, Dipper – or maybe not? - placed a single finger over his lips. There was a certain element of showmanship to the gesture. Mabel realized at roughly the same time Mettaton did that by standing there, watching the happenings on the screen, knowing there was no way to interfere, they'd each been forced into playing the role of audience to this live performance.

"Oh?" Mettaton sneered, "What does that little brat think he's up to?" The person with her brother's face waved his arms with a shout to get the ghost's attention, looking pleased when Napstablook, startled by the commotion at their back, circled around to spot him. The ghost remembered him immediately as the boy who'd visited before, and asked if he'd come back to listen to their music, all the while sounding so quietly pleased that Mabel clutched at her chest, feeling as though her heart would shatter into a million pieces if she didn't physically try to hold it together. Dimly, she wondered how Mettaton knew Napstablook. Were they friends? And if they were, then did Napstablook know that?

Speaking of, the little ghost was in the middle of thanking her brother for visiting a second time – it was rare for their home to entertain guests twice in one day - when Dipper rudely cut him off, interrupting with a grating voice, like sandpaper and chainsaws, "You're a real downer, aren't ya?"

Surprised, the ghost's corporeal form wavered, becoming momentarily translucent as they struggled to reconcile their memory of the kind boy from before with this stranger's abrupt hostility. Assuming they'd done something to offend him, they seemed to shrink, withdrawing within themselves as tears welled in their eyes, "s-sorry."

"There ya go again, always apologizing. No wonder your cousin ditched ya."

Clapping her hands over her mouth, Mabel fought down the urge to scream at whatever was making her brother say these horrible things. Beside her, Mettaton's expression twisted in a pained grimace. He pressed deeper dents into the desk, leaving behind impressions of his fingertips in its surface that remained even after he yanked his hands off it, forcing them to hover harmlessly in air where they couldn't generate any further damage or distractions.

"Do you want to know where your dear, loving cousin's been all this time? What he's accomplished since he dropped some serious dead weight?" Alphys glanced sharply up at the screen, keyboard briefly forgotten. A strangled gasp betrayed her before she ducked her head, forcing her claws to type an increased speed. Mabel tore herself from the sight in front of her to see the scientist's furious attempts to clear her vision, to turn the letters and numbers swimming in her vision into a solution. "Actually, you should know this, already. You watch him on television all the time, don't you? Don't play dumb with me, Blooky. I'm talking about Mettaton here. Your cousin gave up immortality when he gained that physical form, and all so he could get away from you."

"That's not true!" Desperate, Mettaton swung to the scientist. "Alphys!"

Sorrow weighing heavily on her, Alphys answered him with a slow, helpless shake of her head. "T-there's nothing I can do. The system's been overridden." She jammed down the enter key. A red light by the entrance stuttered, but the automatic doors remained closed. "All the entrances and exits have been sealed off. But even if you ran there, Mettaton, I don't think…" She trailed off, incapable of finishing the thought.

"you're trying to hurt me, right?" They heard Napstablook say, and suddenly all the focus was returned to the monitor. "but i'm happy to know that my cousin's dream came true. they always wanted to be a star."

Gently tracing the outline of their form, Mettaton pressed his forehead against the screen, letting his eyes slipped closed, "Oh, Blooky."

"Don't you get it?" Not-Dipper snapped, frustrated by the tenacity of what should have been an easy target. Mettaton raised his head with a snarl, looking like he'd give anything to reach into the screen and strangle her brother. "He abandoned you! Left you here to waste away into nothing, and all because you were the one thing holding him back."

With each new blow to a self-esteem that wasn't very high to begin with, Napstablook faded. By this point, they could clearly see the wall behind them.

"Face it, my ghoulish friend," the only real monster in the room would have slung an arm affably over the ghost's shoulders if he could have, "you're not welcome on this plane of existence, you're not not even really wanted here," he said, as though engaging in a friendly conversation, "and I don't even have to tell you this, either, do I? You've known it all along! So why don't you do your cousin and everyone else down in this miserable little hole in the ground a huge favor, and," the lights in the little house dimmed. Dipper's lips curled. Yellow eyes glowed like lanterns in the dark, "end your worthless existence."

Mettaton pounded at the monitor, begging Alphys to brighten the picture, begging what used to be her brother to leave Napstablook alone. Then they heard a wispy, nearly inaudible voice ask, "did you really come here… just to tell me to disappear?" There was a distinctly glib reply, then-

"…okay."

The lights flickered, flooding the house in bursts. From one to next, the number of figures dropped. And when they settled into an unwavering brightness, it was to reveal Dipper standing alone.

Biting back a cry, Mabel snuck a peek at Mettaton to witness the desolation at the end of the world, when the stars go out, and all that's left is ice and dust.

She blinked and he was stone, straightening with a hard expression. "Come on, Alphys. We have work to do."

She climbed out her chair like she'd aged a hundred years, no longer bothering to wipe away the tears. They dried on her cheeks. She stood before them, hunched even further with the weight of the world pressing her down. "The extractor's primed for activation," she told Sans, before heading off to join Mettaton, who had already left to wait for her at the front entrance. He was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed over the neon pink heart painted on his chest, a wry twist to his mouth at how effortless it was to leave now that it was too late to matter. "I'm sorry, but that's all I can do for you."

Sans offered her a grateful nod, before adding with genuine fondness, "knock em' dead, al."

From her place at the Mettaton's side, she replied with a tired smile to show that she appreciated the sentiment, even if dredging up the proper amount of feeling behind it felt leagues beyond her at this point. "Goodbye, Sans."

The sweltering heat swallowed them up when they stepped outside. It was the last Mabel saw of them before the doors slammed shut, blocking their shimmering silhouettes from view with finality of a coffin's lid falling closed before the burial.

* * *

"Why didn't you stop them?"

Sans paused in his efforts to scoop the dog food he'd found into his pockets to address a very irate little girl with a fierce scowl distorting her pretty features. "and how did you expect me to do that?" Estimating the amount he'd gathered to be enough, he rolled up the top of the massive bag, then patted his sides, satisfied. "did mettaton look like he was in the mood to listen to reason? after your brother-"

"That wasn't Dipper," she interrupted with a razor's sharpness. That, in addition to the stubborn set of her jaw, suggested she more than prepared to argue the point, but Sans didn't feel the need to argue when he actually agreed.

He'd felt from the beginning that something was off about the human boy. If he'd acted sooner, if he hadn't blown the kid off when he'd asked for his help at _Grillby's_ , if he'd done more or done less or done nothing at all…

Was failing these kids really all he was good for?

After crossing to the other side of the building, with Mabel at his heels, he came to a stop in front of the spot where Alphys and Mettaton had first made their appearance. "after what happened to his cousin, i'm not sure how eager he would have been to help us save your brother." She stuck her head through the doorway to see a series of switches on the wall. It was another elevator; similar to the one she'd used to get to the MTT Resort.

Sans padded inside, then gestured for her to follow. "you're going to want to hold onto something."

Naturally, there was nothing to hold onto, so Mabel slipped her arms around the skeleton's waist, smelly dog food and all, burrowing her head into his jacket as the steel doors slid closed. For a short time, the elevator lowered without a fuss, then red alarms blared. Warnings were broadcasted over their heads. The tether holding them up snapped. Squeezing her eyes shut, Mabel screamed as they fell into freefall.

But the crash never came. Though frightened of what she would see, Mabel anxiously peered through a part in the waves of her hair to discover that the elevator they'd been inside was now behind them, smoking, dented and misshapen.

Once they'd finished what they'd come there to do – the specifics of which Mabel was beginning to realize Sans had never bothered to share with her - they would need to find another exit.

Several rather irritating pokes through her sweater had her swiveling her head to see Sans staring over her at the wreckage, his hands a light, constant pressure on her shoulders until a slow exhale hissed through his jaw, and he gently untangled his bones from the garment's threads.

He led her through a narrow hallway, over a decrepit green tiled floor and broken screens that lit up with ominous journal entries at their passing. He didn't allow her to linger long enough to read them, reminding her that they were working on something of a schedule. She hurried after him, huffing grumpily under her breath that she didn't need him telling her what she already knew.

Tracing the fissures in the walls as they walked, she dug her fingers into the deep crevices, attempting to absorb herself in the coarse rock, in the harsh edges carving shallow furrows into her skin, but it failed to distract her from the stagnant air sitting on her tongue, from the potent, mausoleum-esque musk enveloping them. It was thick, almost palpable. And it was everywhere. "Was it always this scary here?"

Swiveling her head around at the blinking screens and the water damage in the sagging ceiling, she swallowed down a nervous gulp. If they were buried alive, who would ever think to come find them?

"well, yes and no. the creepy vibe's not exactly a recent addition, but… there used to be more to it.

They soon came across a vending machine filled with grossly overpriced popato chisps, as well as another elevator they couldn't use because, as stated by the note they'd found crumbled up on the floor, the power was out. Quietly frustrated by this, Sans took a moment to massage his forehead. He studied the surrounding ruin with a critical glance, keenly aware of its degradation, sucked in sharply, then aimed his sockets at the cracked ground beneath their feet with a weighty sigh. "you've really let this place go, al."

Mabel found the scene achingly familiar somehow, and strived to remember exactly where she'd seen it before. Then it came to her. When her parents had driven away from their old home for the last time, with her and Dipper sitting in the backseat, Dipper had watched the house grow smaller and smaller through the rear window, until they turned a corner and it slipped from view. Back then, watching their home shrink from a window covered in early morning dew, knowing they'd never be pulling into the same driveway or playing in the same backyard ever again, the lines between nostalgia and bitterness had blurred, and though Sans hid it well, Mabel made the connection between the past and the present, and realized that the lab was more than just a creepy old underground dungeon to Sans. Once, he might have even considered it home. There were no rules stating a person could only have one home, after all. And if home was where the heart was, then maybe losing one took part of your heart away, too.

Thinking of what she'd said to Dipper, back a million years ago, she lightly brushed her chilled fingers against his, then carefully intertwined their hands. She met the question written over his raised brow with a small squeeze, "You don't have to tell me your secrets," she told him solemnly. "I don't think I want to hear them, anyway. But stop being sad all by yourself." Her grip around his hand tightened. "I'm sad, too, Sans. And I don't want to be alone."

She hated this. It wasn't like her to let life get her down.

But if she'd only done more, come up with a plan to help Dipper herself, instead of always assuming that no matter how bad things got, he'd find a way to pull through, then maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe her brother wouldn't be wandering around the Underground, terrorizing monsters while acting like a deranged lunatic.

Maybe Napstablook would still be tinkering with their spooky tunes and browsing on music forums. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened to them after they'd vanished, but judging by Mettaton's devastated reaction, it wasn't anything good.

Did Dipper even know what he was being made to do? If he didn't, then how was she supposed to tell him? How could she not?

A slight stinging in her scalp led her out of the downward spiral of her thoughts had taken. Curious, she looked up to see Sans ruffling her hair with his free hand. It went well until the long strands got caught in his joints, and they had work together to release him from the prison of her brown tresses. As they worked, the white pupils in his sockets flared, bright and comforting and warm.

When they were done, he rested his chin lightly on her forehead. "i never did introduce you to alphys, did i?" Then he shifted until they were face to face, staring directly into her gradually widening eyes to show he was serious, "guess you're stuck with me for the long haul, kiddo."

A wet giggle escaped her when he pulled away. She sniffed, wiping a few stray tears with an impatient swipe of her cuff.

He stepped towards the door, studying the multi-colored circles glowing brightly from the entrance to what the sign labeled the Power Room. A thick cord extended from within, preventing the sliding doors from closing. The steady hum of a generator emanated from the gap its obstruction created.

Sans poked the cord, a look of gratitude and pride briefly softening his edges, before he called Mabel over. "see this?" He pointed down the cord's path with a single skeletal finger. "we follow this and it'll take use straight to where we need to be."

They made a right, then turned a sharp corner that led them through an entrance marked with blinking crimson half-moon lights and into a long hallway. Sans strode purposefully, clearly familiar with the place, with a firm grip on her sleeve. Mabel jogged to keep up, astonished by how quickly he could move without breaking into a run. The motion-activated entries on the wall flared to life as they passed, but she could only catch snippets, fragments of sentences that made no sense.

The word 'determination' popped out at her, followed by - _one of the bodies opened its eyes._

She gulped. "Sans, what-"

Noticing the wary hunch of his shoulders, she allowed the query to end prematurely. He stared resolutely ahead, increasing the frequency of his strides with renewed urgency until the hallway opened up into a large room filled with several rows of cots and an empty dog bowl. The pillows on each of the beds were fluffed, their sheets pulled up and pink comforters tucked in at the sides.

There was an opening towards the back of them that Sans made a beeline for, though he purposefully avoided triggering the journal entry next to it by taking a detour through the rows and approaching it from the opposite side.

The entry in the hallway beyond it talked about everyone receiving a happy ending out of the research. There was even a happy face emoji at the end of it.

The next didn't say anything, except – _no NO NO NO NO NO NO_

She tried to put it out of her mind. She really did.

She bit down on the questions bubbling to the surface, knowing voicing them would only hurt her skeleton friend, but they spread like melting ice through her brain. She imagined bodies lying in the cots they'd seen. She imagined them rising and walking around.

What if they were still there? What if they were waiting?

She squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the thoughts with a fierce shake of her head, until Sans finally came to a halt and she walked straight into him, bouncing off his back harmlessly with little more than a sore nose. Rubbing at the throbbing cartilage with a wounded expression, Mabel craned her neck to see past the skeleton's shoulder, where a scarlet skull hung from the ceiling in full view.

She let loose a shrill, terrified scream, causing Sans to start. He swiveled a chin over his shoulder to stare back at her in disbelief. "you tryin' to give me a heart attack back there?"

Bemused, Mabel asked, "Can that happen?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, then turned back to face the macabre chandelier. It was hard to catch what he grumbled under his breath, but Mabel guessed that it had something to do with humans being the death of him.

The cord to the generator ran into the back of the skull, as did several other thick, segmented power cords that extended from its crown like horns. Its jaw and nostrils were bisected, lending them the appearance of pincers, and in the sockets, Mabel could see a pulsating light. "It's like a goat," she muttered, "but without all the fleshy bits."

Tugging on the cables to ensure that they were fastened securely, Sans shrugged. "that's one way of putting it, i guess. we always referred to it as the dt extractor." He chuckled darkly. "would you believe me if i told you it was supposed to save monsterkind?" And instead, it was sitting in an abandoned lab, gathering dust.

A screen on the wall activated, showing the words:

 _DT EXTRACTION MACHINE_  
 _STATUS: ACTIVE_

Unsure of how safe a machine with such a sinister appearance could be, Mabel leveled at worried frowned up at the hollow extractor. "And if, um, we stick Dipper in this, somehow… it'll help him?"

Sans paused in his work, but before he could respond, a mournful howl rang through the lab. It came from the hall at the other end of the room. They spun to see an amorphous blob with five legs and a short tail edging towards them, a gaping hole carved out where its face should have been. It wept viscous black fluid as it staggered towards them, drawn by the sound of Mabel's scream and the smell of dog food.

Mabel gasped, regretting it immediately when a fierce coughing wracked her chest, her lungs rejecting the dust and mold spores she'd accidentally inhaled.

When she could finally breath again, she frantically pulled at Sans, urging him to run, but the skeleton showed no indication that he'd heard her. Instead of running, he emptied out his pockets onto the floor. "hey, buddy," he greeted the creature, "it's been a while since my last visit, hasn't it? did ya miss me?"

Despite lacking a nose, the creature bent to sniff at the food. Mabel watched in morbid fascination as it vacuumed up the pellets through its single oozing orifice.

When it was done, its pointy ears perked up with unfettered excitement. Its tail wagged as it staggered blindly towards them, swishing back and forth, only to reach supersonic levels when Sans gave its neck an affectionate scratch.

With her natural inquisitiveness taking precedence over her initial fear, Mabel approached what appeared to be many dogs blended together, and stretched out her hand, holding it palm facing outward so the creature could learn her scent. Then it ducked its head and she rubbed it behind the ears, delighting in the quiet woofs emanating from various parts of its body.

Sans' phone vibrated, spooking it. When he withdrew a hand to check on it, the furry dog-like creature slunk out of the room, retreating to wherever it'd come from. Mabel hated to see it go, but she also knew that they still had work to do, so she suppressed the powerful urge to call it back. Even if they had the machine working, they still needed to figure out a way to get Dipper in it without him or anyone else getting hurt.

The Caller ID on Sans' phone indicated that the call was from Papyrus. He swiped the screen to answer, placing the call on speaker so Mabel could listen and talk to his brother, too.

It wasn't long before the lab, once silent, echoed with the sound of screams.


	24. Battle Scars

"pap?"

It was like someone had dropped the phone into the middle of a stampede. Roars and howls and panicked shrieks blasted from the speakers, paws crunched in the snow in their desperation to escape from some unseen threat. It sounded like the whole of Snowdin was under attack but, even though it was his phone, none of the screams belonged to Papyrus. Even so, Sans called his name, increasingly desperate as the cacophony raised in pitch and volume. "papyrus?!"

Clicking his teeth in frustration, he dropped the call, then plugged in a series of numbers until six separate video feeds filled the screen. He was agitated, hitting one of the boxes with more force than necessary, and the image enlarged to show them Papyrus' cellphone, abandoned in the snow, with dozens of clawed and padded feet racing past it, narrowly avoiding stomping it into the white powder.

Shoulders hunching, Sans slammed a closed fist against the DT Extractor's muzzle, having seemingly forgotten Mabel's presence, then shoved the phone back into a pocket. "how could i be so stupid? they usually evacuate to the north. if the ruins are locked and you're _brother's_ ," he hissed the word with venom, "coming down from hotland, they're trapped in there."

If that was the case, then what they were still doing standing around? Mabel straightened her spine, feeling a wave of calm wash over her. "Okay," gaze darting towards to the terrifying machine that would save Dipper, she said, "that sounds really bad, so how do we stop him?"

Drawn out of his own turmoil, Sans adjusted to focus on her, and if she'd felt he'd forgotten her before, now it felt as though he didn't appreciate the reminder. When he finally spoke, it was with a coldness he'd never used on her before, " _we_ don't."

Abruptly, he started to flicker and fade. He'd be gone if she blinked, so with a shout of alarm and defiance, Mabel plowed into him, wrapping around his chest like a koala afraid to fall, and he stumbled, thrown off by the sudden influx of weight. Then the ground dropped out from under them and they were hurtling through a shifting, shadowy space, the extractor and the lab quickly disappearing as they fell down or sideways or up. Mabel couldn't tell. She was being pulled in all directions at the same time, but it was all happening too fast for her to scream. There were slits in the walls that rolled and shuddered with the images playing inside them as they sped past – an empty restaurant in Hotland, the unattended counter at Gerson's shop, the dwindling crowd in Snowdin, even smaller than it had been a mere minute before.

Sans saw that one and directed them towards it by yanking their souls towards the rift with his magic, and then they were standing in a sparsely decorated room with a trash cyclone spinning innocuously in the corner and a crumpled up ball of cabbage green sheets plopped on the center of a ratty old mattress.

Doubling over onto his knees, the short skeleton wheezed, "you tryin' to kill me, kiddo?"

Swaying dizzily, Mabel clutched her stomach with a miserable groan, "I think it's trying to escape." She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply through her nose and out through her mouth to rid herself of the daze that was making it so hard to think. While Sans composed himself, she said, quiet and accusing, "You tried to leave without me."

It wasn't like she'd expected him to apologize, which was for the best, because he didn't. He didn't even acknowledge that she'd said anything beyond a quick glance in her direction. Then he was uncurling, steadying himself, and he ghosted past her, their shoulders passing as close as they could without touching, and then he was out the hallway, frantically calling his brother's name.

Papyrus wasn't in his room. He wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. He wasn't hiding in the pantry.

Mabel was wracking her brain for where else he could be when the whole world became splintered, fractured by the anguished howl tearing through the walls and the doors and the windows. It was a despair that nothing could stop.

She sped out of the kitchen and bolted towards the door in time to see the hem of Sans's hoodie disappear outside before it slammed shut, and she yanked it open, ignoring the sharp pang in her chest as the lingering effects of Hotland's heat were wiped out by Snowdin's chill.

The street was empty. There were claw marks, pawprints, impressions of boots, all overlapping and haphazard, but no sign of the monsters that had left them behind.

Sans stood among them, directly in the center of the path. Waiting.

She wasn't even down the steps before the howl started up again, and Sans took off towards _Grillby's_ , with Mabel racing after him, great clouds of vapor spewing from her as her lungs shunted her too warm breath into the frigid air. They passed the library where the snowman Dipper had built had been kicked down, rendering it nothing more than unrecognizable chunks scattered across the building's front.

The space where the adorable mouse monster and their masked friend had stood was barren, the bears were nowhere to be seen, and the presents under the tree were ripped and smashed to pieces.

After taking a sharp turn into narrow alley between _Grillby's_ and the inn, Sans briefly vanished from her sight, and Mabel drew up short in a burst of panic, the fear of being left alone and defenseless in the ghost town making her muscles seize. It passed quickly enough, and she moved to follow, only it turned out she didn't have to, because Sans was thrown from the alley with a strangled yelp. He skid on his back across the snowy path, and then a blur shot from behind the corner to pounce on his chest.

It was the female member of the Royal Guard they'd overheard Sans talking to in _Grillby's_ restaurant. She'd looked so cool back then, calm and composed, but now her robe hung off her frame in tatters as she lunged at Sans' throat, a feral glint in her dark eyes as she snapped her jaws at the arms Sans had raised protectively over his face, spitting and snarling, "Traitor!"

Hands gripping her snout, limbs shaking, Sans pleaded with her to calm down and talk to him, calling her by the same affectionate nickname he'd used before, and she scrunched her nose, curling her lips in repulsion and disgust.

Mabel rushed to try and pull her off before she could do the skeleton any real damage, only to be roughly shaken off and shoved back into the snow by the swinging backhand of Dogaressa's dusty gray paw.

Cold seeped through the seat of her skirt, bit into her bare legs, but she barely noticed. It was so hard to focus on anything besides the raw grief and rage displayed in front of her.

Dogaressa gripped Sans by the shoulders with a bruising strength, and shook him, "Dogamy would still be alive if you had just done your job!"

Making no effort to stop her, Sans told her with a composure that came across as dissonant and eerie given that he was very likely about to have his head chewed off, "i know." He carefully placed a hand on her back to steady her, lifting it only when she growled at the contact. "that's why I'm here now, 'ressa. to do what i should have done at the start."

Shaking her head and slumping, she groaned, "It's too late."

Her body trembled, causing skeleton's sockets widened in alarm, and then she collapsed on top of him, breathing harshly. Sans raised the hand he'd used to steady her, spotting the blood staining the white bone for the first time. "Dogaressa, what-"

"It was a cheapshot," she breathed, and though her strength had waned to the point where she was forced to rest her head on the skeleton's chest, she bared her gleaming fangs and pink gums in a snarl. "That flea-infested in-bred mutt plays dirty."

Sans, noticing Mabel attempting to crawl closer, subtly shook his head, but kept the majority of his attention on the dying canine lying limp over his torso. "can you tell me what happened to papyrus?"

Dogaressa closed her eyes. "We tried to convince him not to confront the human. We told him it was suicide. And when he went ahead with it, anyway, my husband refused to let him do it alone." She sighed, and a little of her life slipped out with it. Her paws started to break down first, the tips disintegrating into grain. "He tried so hard to save your brother."

And Mabel, forgetting the skeleton's earlier warning, attempted to grab onto it, to somehow hold it together with her hands. She cried out when the entire arm dissolved at her touch. Dogaressa's eyes flicked backwards to see her distress.

"Ah," she murmured, watching idly as Mabel attempted to gather the dust together, "the other human…" She raised her head slightly so she could see the skeleton's reaction when she mustered the last of her strength to state what was, to her, a very simple, irrefutable fact. "You didn't deserve him, Sans."

Though the skeleton's sockets stretched minutely, he watched her fade without a word, feeling her grow lighter and lighter until the tattered cloak laid flat against him, and all that was left of Dogaressa was a sprinkling of dust over his clothes.

For a reason Mabel couldn't even begin to understand, she had worn a smile in her final moments.

Sans climbed to his feet, brushing the gray particles off his hoodie and pants with a vague semblance of a grimace. It was customary to sprinkle the dust of a loved one over their favorite things, but Dogamy was gone, and Sans was certain that he made for a very poor substitute.

Deep in thought, he eyed the dark fabric sitting in the alleyway where he'd found the de facto leader of the Canine Unit, then headed towards it, except that was when a explosion blasted the door to _Grillby's_ off its hinges. Flames that filled every inch of the rectangular space expanded out towards the forest, their tongues licking the air and melting the snow, leaving charred earth and steam in their wake. Propelled by the force of the explosion, the small body of a young boy rocketed out of the restaurant like he'd been fired out of a cannon, until it slammed against the trunk of a pine tree with a horrible _crack_.

Mabel's eyes locked on the boy, watching in horror as he slid down with his teeth bared in a bloody grin, and cried out, "Dipper!"

He didn't acknowledge her, finding the seething bartender filling the entrance leagues more interesting. A line of white split Grillby's face into a mouth of jagged edges, a taste of the inferno brewing within him escaping through a bestial hiss that gave rise to scorching clouds of smoke and fire.

"Why don't you come on out here, Sparks?" Not-Dipper taunted as he reached past the burned trail to grab a handful of icy snow. "I've got a snowball with your name on it."

Grillby's long fingers extended, curling into talons. _"You dare…"_

Seeing the fire gather in his palms, Mabel ducked to prevent Sans from stopping her then darted across the snow to place herself directly between her brother and the elemental threatening to burn him to a crisp.

She thrust her arms out, refusing to budge, and Grillby stilled. From where she stood now, Mabel could see the Innkeeper and her child cowering behind him, crouched down and huddled together by the counter in the back. There was no sign of the Innkeeper's sister, or anyone else, for that matter. In her peripheral vision, she noted a stranger's eyes staring up at her with blatant amusement. "You're protecting me?" He drawled. "I'm touched."

"Not you, stupid," she retorted, shooting an irritated glare at the impostor she was shielding. "That's my brother you're wearing."

"Watch it, Shooting Star." The threat in his tone was subtle, buried beneath a façade of charm and an almost conversational, teasing attitude. As such, Mabel missed the instant when his hand gripped the hilt of the knife lying at his side. "It's not a good idea to hurt my feelings."

He flicked his wrist and the dagger shot towards Mabel's back. Before it could hit its mark, however, she felt a familiar tug on her soul, and she was yanked out of the way, leaving the blade to continue on towards Grillby, who didn't dodge so much as arc his flames so that the weapon flew harmlessly past him.

For an instant, they thought they'd won, but then the grin on the impostor's face only spread, and Grillby gave voice to a pained grunt, hunching as the blade burrowed deeper into his shoulder from behind.

Sans rushed up the steps to steady him, ignoring the sputtering flames flicking over his bones. _"Magic? A monster?!"_

The blade disappeared from Grillby's back, reappearing in the impostor's hand with all the ease of breathing. "Wowza, are you wrong. A being of chaos and destruction such as myself shouldn't even be compared to the likes of you pathetic nobodies." This guy was really starting to grate on Mabel's nerves. "Name's Bill Cipher, and I see everything." A wink. "You can go ahead and call me a killer if you want, but I think we can all agree that you two aren't as squeaky clean as you'd like this town to think."

Grillby appeared confused by the claim, though that had more to do with why on earth Sans would be included. His gaze flicked up at him, filled with unspoken questions, but Sans was staring ahead, exhaustion and grief resulting in a spark of blue in his left socket that spelled the rapid dwindling of his patience. "man, do you ever shut up?"

Satisfied to have gotten a rise out of the skeleton, Bill made to expand on his taunt, but a shove to his side sent him plowing facefirst into the snow bank framing the elemental's path of destruction. He shot up, spitting and sputtering white powder, then raised his head to see Mabel smirking confidently down at him. "Bet you didn't see that coming, did ya?"

With a cruel sneer creeping across her brother's face, the demon told her that she'd made a fatal mistake. Instead of waiting for him to finish his threat, however, Mabel delivered one last incendiary remark over her shoulder, then bolted in the direction of the rope bridge that led to the Ruins. She wasn't sure if it was luck or the opposite that he followed her, but the important thing was to get him away from the monsters.

After observing the chase until they exited Snowdin, Sans was forced to realize that he was still grudgingly invested in the turnout of this timeline. He shouldn't have been and definitely didn't want to be. Papyrus was dead, after all. If that was the case, then rest of the world could burn… Except he'd made a promise to a certain old lady, a promise that he might have to break...

Grillby absorbed the patches of gray scattered throughout the snow with mounting horror. _"What happened?"_

And even if the skeleton had an answer for him, he wouldn't know where to start.

"i'll explain it to ya later, grillz," he replied distractedly, certain he wouldn't have to.

He'd experienced this song and dance before, and even if this version hit some strange notes, the overall melody was the same. One way or another, the end of the road was fast approaching, which meant it was time for him to stop fooling around and finally do his job.

* * *

Mabel had a plan.

It was, however, not a very good plan. She'd hoped that luring Bill onto the bridge would be a relatively simple task, after which she could trap him by activating Papyrus' traps and then Sans could zap them all back to the lab with the creepy extraction machine, but he kept dancing around, pressing her closer to the bluff's abrupt end.

If she stepped on the bridge with him so close to the trigger, then she'd wind up trapped by the threat of a spiky mace and a javelin aimed at her head. It was enough to make her wonder exactly which of them had been lured there. She was still pretty sure she had the advantage, but it was a certainty that diminished a little more with each step he forced her to take towards the drop.

Glancing down at the toy-sized pine trees below, Mabel gulped. If she fell this time, there'd be no Papyrus or Undyne around to save her from flattening into a pancake.

"time to duck, kid!" Not needing to be told a second time, Mabel crouched low to the ground, successfully avoiding a collision with Bill when a blue aura lifted him and sent him flying over her head and past the cliff's edge. Seeing that, Mabel screamed Dipper's name, only to gawk in confusion and wonder when the demon possessing her brother suddenly vanished, as though reality itself had swallowed them in one humongous gulp.

She spun around to see Sans walking purposefully to what looked to her like a spot on the bluff that was no different from any other spot, but then she ran up to join him, imitating his angle, and thought maybe there was a something, like rip or a splitting seam shimmering directly in front of them, but once she blinked, it vanished. Finding it again proved the thing to be slippery and difficult to focus on, as her gaze kept sliding away from the seam like its existence was a glitch in the universe.

"that should buy us time, but it won't be long before he gets bored of being cooped up down here and tries to slip past the barrier." There was something he was willing her to understand, but she was itching to get moving. Dipper was out there, being made to do who knows what, and- "i can't let that happen."

Surprised by the finality saturating his words, she glanced up at him in confusion, and he stepped past her, disappearing into the rift without another word.

There was a ripple where he'd disturbed the fabric of reality, and before it could settle, Mabel retreated a few steps, intending to leap after him. Once she was close enough to make the jump, however, a skeleton hand reached out of the seam, latched onto her forearm, and pulled her through.

The MTT Resort stood before the irate dream demon in all its tacky glory, with winged robots framing the sides of its extravagant golden sign like a pair of demented cherubs.

He kicked a stray advertisement on the ground in a fit of pique, cursing the skeleton that had booted him out of Snowdin when he'd been so close to cleaning up shop – he could count on one of Pine Tree's fleshy appendages how many monsters were still alive in that town – and landed him in front of this exalted tourist trap.

It had everything from garish decorations to hiked-up prices for terrible food. It even had an owner who somehow managed to juggle both an inflated ego and enough issues to fill up a phonebook.

Well, there was no point in retracing his steps now. Might as well make the best of a mediocre situation by finding the nearest monster and having some fun with it.

Unfortunately, the shop the advertisement talked about had already been abandoned. There as a note written in gel pens explaining how Alphys had convinced the two dimmest monsters in the Underground to evacuate to a shelter.

Well, he'd just have to thank her for that, wouldn't he?

If these monsters only knew how many times they'd been taken to the surface, only to be dragged Underground without their knowledge, or mercilessly disposed off, with any survivors inevitably being erased with the destruction of the timeline, they'd be begging him to end their miserable lives.

Seriously. By killing them like this, he's doing all of Monsterkind a valuable service.

Rather than calling him a loser – those two had better pray he doesn't catch them – they should be prostrating themselves before him.

After stealing a partially eaten burger to help Pine Tree's body recover somewhat from the burns that a certain bartending hothead had inflicted on it during their little tussle, he exited the shop with a bounce in his step, whistling an upbeat tune as he made his way back to the resort's front doors.

There had to be someone dumb enough to stick around.

* * *

A little dizzy and nauseous from the trip, though not even close to the extent of the discomfort that had followed her hitching a ride with Sans to Snowdin, Mabel stared up at the slowly spinning ceiling of a cathedral.

Ugh. Maybe it'd be better if she closed her eyes.

She squeezed them shut, still aware of a sense of movement above, below, and all around her, but by the time she opened them again, the spinning had stopped, her stomach ceased its flip-flops and her legs felt a little less like wet noodles. Now that she was feeling better, she glanced to the side to get a better idea of her surroundings, and saw Sans massaging his brow in front of a stained glass window. The angel from the Delta Rune was positioned at the top, its body and wings gleaming with a golden tint, and below it, the triangles that symbolized the monsters at the angel's mercy.

Though the skeleton was normally inscrutable, every inch of him now clearly broadcasted exhaustion and agitation. "i can't believe you were about to try navigating the rifts on your own."

She stood up, huffing that she wasn't going to let him leave her behind, but before asking why they were standing in a corridor instead of chasing after Bill, she felt it vital to first say how sorry she was about what happened to Papyrus.

She couldn't believe he was gone. The last time she'd spoken to him, they'd been playing with sock puppets on his race car bed, and she'd told him she'd be back soon, but then she ran into Dipper trying to break into Sans' lab and that huge misunderstanding at _Grillby's_ happened.

There was a short time, after her and Dipper had listened in on his conversation with Undyne in the marsh, when she'd wondered if Papyrus was even really her friend.

She regretted it now. She regretted ever doubting him, even if only for a second.

Sans gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the sentiment without any true reaction on his part. She didn't understand how he could be so calm. "If we'd only gotten there sooner-"

"it wouldn't have changed anything," he cut in. "whatever's parading around in your brother has both the stamina of a physical body and powerful magic." He paused, as though weighing his words. "unless i go all out, there's not a chance of me winning here."

At first, his meaning went entirely over her head. Go all out? Hadn't they been putting in maximum effort from the start? Then it clicked.

What he should have done at the start… His job was to capture the humans that fell into the Underground. And if they turned out to be dangerous...

"You're not talking about killing Dipper… right?" She waited for him to deny it, to assure her that wasn't true, that there was still a plan in the works and everything was going to work out, somehow. But he didn't.

Even though he'd promised he'd protect them, even though he'd told her in the lab that he'd be with her for the long hail, even though he'd helped her and Dipper through the forest and the puzzles and chased after them to explain when they'd escaped into Waterfall… Why was he giving up on them now?

She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, biting down on her lower lip. "If it was Papyrus-"

This time, he didn't let her finish, "thing is, it's not. that lunatic striking down monsters for the fun of it isn't my bro... and it's not yours, either. not anymore." She covered her ears to block him out, refusing to listen.

He was wrong. There had to be another way.

But what if he already knew that? What if he'd given up on Dipper because Bill had used him to kill Papyrus? What if he didn't even want to save her brother, anymore?

Did that mean it was up to her?

It was a struggle to fill her lungs when they seemed so small now. It felt like they couldn't hold anything. The best she could manage was shallow gasps until her chest hurt, and black spots danced around the shifting Roman columns and stain glass windows.

At some point, the room had started spinning again.

"mabel!" She flinched, sucking down a surprised breath at the firmness with which he'd called her name. "if i don't stop him, he'll destroy everything. if i don't stop him, everyone here and on the surface is going to die."

"Okay," she told him quietly, relieved when some of the grimness seeped out of his bones, "But I'm not giving up." Though he shifted to lock his gaze on the other end of the hallway, he dipped his head in resigned acceptance, as though he'd expected nothing less. "There's another way, I know there is, and whatever it is, I'm going to find it!"

In the face of her fiery determination, Sans could only sigh. "just make sure you stay behind me when he gets here and try not to get caught in the crossfire. i'd rather not have to do this more than once."

Bill jerked a thumb towards the menu options in the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium with palpable irritation. "You're telling me a measly purple burger's worth all that gold?" He slammed his hands on the counter, frustrated by both Pine Tree's utter lack of funds and the unflappable employee in front of him. Usually, he could wring a few drops of terror out of the bravest men, but this cat just smiled like his life depended on it, the expression so strained and forced Bill half-expected the feline monster's teeth to burst from his gums and ricochet around the room.

"I don't set the prices, valued customer," there was a persistent twitch present in the monster's lower lids, "I just sell the merchandise."

Staring contemplatively at the cheapest item of the menu, Bill asked why the obviously stressed employee was still selling Mettaton's products when there was a murderous human running around and everyone else had evacuated.

Burgerpants leveled a knowing look at the demon. "It's simple, really. My boss scares me more than you do."

Sensing an opportunity, Bill offered to kill his boss in exchange for free food (he'd been planning on getting around to it, anyway), even throwing out an open palm to shake on it, traces of blue flames licking at the skin, but Burgerpants refused, "Sorry, but you're too late, freak." He gestured to the cap on his head and the salmon pink, overly starched uniform he wore most days of the week. "I've already sold my soul."

Ugh. Talk abut cynical. This was why he hated dealing with overworked, underpaid employees the most. Can't break what's already broken.

Deciding there was nothing left for him to do here, Bill turned to leave. He had some walking to do if he wanted to reach Asgore sometime before Pine Tree lost his sanity.

With surprisingly steady hands, Burgerpants lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag from one end while smoke curled from the other. "That's it, then? You're not going to try and kill me?"

The stall shuddered with the mocking cackle of its resident demon, causing a vastly more entertaining flash of righteous indignation to cross the feline's ridiculous features. "And free you from working in the fast food industry? Nah. When it comes to torment and suffering, this job's light years ahead of anything I could come up with."

* * *

There's sunlight streaming into the corridor from outside, illuminating the checkered tiles and amber columns. Dust particles float lazily through the rays, twinkling occasionally when the angle is right.

It could be magic, like the snowfall and the rain, but Mabel desperately hoped it wasn't. If they were so near to the surface that the sun's light could reach them, then that had to mean that freedom was practically a hand's stretch away.

Curious, she touched the glass with an outstretched palm, and shivered.

It was cold.

A slap of sneaker soles dragged her attention to the arced entrance with the violence of an exploding star. Sans gestured for her to get behind him, and true to her word, she obeyed without protest, then continued to watch the events unfold from what had to be the safest place in the corridor.

Dipper, no, Bill – Bipper? - poked his head out, looking gleeful with gears and bolts sticking out of a disheveled mop of brown hair. He picked one out and flung it, sending it skittering across the floor.

Refusing to be baited, Sans followed its path without comment, the only sign that he'd gleaned any meaning from the taunt being the slightest narrowing of his sockets when the former human entered fully, revealing a body covered head-to-toe in dust.

"Before we get started," Bill curled Dipper's mouth into a menacing sneer, shifting the knife in his hand so it glinted as he walked towards them with his spine swaying back and forth, limbs swaying as though they were all flesh and no bone, "I've got a question I'd like ya to answer for me – is the owner of that body you're abusing still inside you?"

Tilting his head to the side with an audible crack, Bill halted in front of the nearest column, drew back an arm, and then slammed his broken fingers against the solid cylinder. Already swollen and bruised, the appendage twitched spasmodically, convulsed like a dying animal as Bill clutched it to his chest, a brief wince serving as the only indication that he was even aware of the agony burning through his stolen body, "If he was, he'd be shrieking at the top of his lungs right about now."

Blood rushing to her head, Mabel pushed past the skeleton's arm so there was nothing between her and the demon when she shouted, "Why are you doing this? What did Dipper ever do to you?!"

Sans shifted slightly to arch a brow at her, because the whole purpose of having her stay behind him was to keep her from becoming a target, a plan that she was currently and rather spectacularly blowing to pieces by stepping in front of him and yelling questions.

If Bill hadn't instantly zeroed in on her with an eager and hungry gleam in his yellow eyes, she might have even squeaked out a sheepish apology, but now that she was suddenly in the spotlight, all she could manage was a nervous gulp. Sensing her fear, the demon's grin stretched to consume every inch of skin it could reach, "He made a deal to save your pathetic life. Ridiculous, right?"

What was he talking about? Hadn't it been her superpower that saved her? But even if that were the case, nobody had the right to mock Dipper, and they definitely didn't have the right to mock him for caring about her.

A cyclone of confusion and fury swirling within her, Mabel lunged, forgetting everything except for the extremely punchable jerk-face waltzing around in her brother's body. If Sans hadn't hooked a bone through her collar, depositing her behind him with a muttered, "you're in the way," she would have tackled the impostor.

Watching the proceedings with glee, Bill jerked his shoulders in a flippant shrug. "Well, it's not like you would have stayed dead, but he didn't know that."

And Mabel had never hated anything or anyone in her entire life, not even vegetables, though the relationship between her and brusselsprouts certainly had its rocky patches, but as she stood there, trembling, unable to take a single step forward because Sans was still trying to protect her, and if she slipped past him again and he got distracted or hurt because of it, she'd never forgive herself, there was no other name for the black fire eating away at her from the inside.

The demon watched her as though reading her mind, an expression of smug satisfaction crossing his face. Sans observed the interaction for a moment longer before intervening, "alright, pal," once the focus was directed towards him, he dragged slender white fingerbones down his forehead and brow in a calculated gesture of fatigue. "it's been a long day. what do you say we get to the point?"

There was a derisive snort. "In a hurry to die, Comedian? That's not like you..." Bill surged forward, demonstrating the flexibility of a marionette as he swiped wildly at the skeleton with a mad cackle. **"But if you _insist!_ "**

It was set to connect, aimed directly for the skeleton's rib cage, but once the blade was a hair's breadth away, Sans vanished, there and gone in the span of a blink. Before Bill could even finish his swing, however, he'd reappeared behind him, planted a slipper on his back, and shoved him until the demon lurched several ungainly steps, spun around, and tried again.

Femur bones erupted from beneath the tile, their shafts broken into jagged points. Clearly enjoying himself, Bill hopped from one foot to the other to keep them from spearing his soles and even leapt atop a few, whereupon he spun in lazy circles, relishing in the sensation of standing in the spotlight like an actor strutting upon the stage.

A projectile rained from the ceiling, nearly clipping his arm. It was followed by several others, each of them aimed at the demon with the intent of incapacitating him, but also in the interest of maintaining a certain distance between him and the skeleton.

From the column where she stood, thankfully out of the line of fire, Mabel cupped her hands around her mouth and cheered, "You got him, Sans! Keep wearing him down!" Realizing that might have been an error on her part when Bill chose that moment to launch an attack that would have cleaved Sans in two if he hadn't jumped out of the way in time, she sheepishly mimed closing a zipper over her mouth.

"appreciate the support, kiddo," it came out sounding strained as Sans had to propel himself backward to avoid another vicious strike, "but kinda need to focus here."

An undulating wave of magically elongated bones lifted Bill from the floor, rolling beneath him in an attempt to make him topple onto their knobby tops, but the demon adjusted quickly to the pattern of rise and fall, allowing him to ride out the wave as though he were surfing on his feet. Even seeing it with her own eyes, Mabel couldn't believe the athleticism her brother's body was displaying, even if the movements were too jerky to be considered natural. What they lacked in grace, however, they made up for in effectiveness.

By the time the bones retreated into the earth, Bill was still standing, completely unscathed.

Or maybe not.

His breathing was beginning to slow, quick inhales replaced by long gulps of air. His forehead shone with beads of perspiration.

Mabel hastily smothered a triumphant grin. Unused as Dipper's body was to all this exertion, she'd been counting on it to wear down, and when it did, then pinning him down would be a cinch.

Except Bill wasn't the only one beginning to sweat.

With a tired huff, San flung a hand towards the ceiling, a surface from which sprang rows upon rows of deadly shafts, and Dipper, his chest suddenly glowing from the magic encased around his soul, was sent hurtling towards them without any signs of slowing or stopping.


	25. Lost Boy

There's a limit to the amount of abuse the human body can withstand before it ceases to function. Based on the nature of his particular brand of magic, Sans couldn't push the boy past his after only one attack, but that was exactly why he didn't stop at one.

The onslaught was endless.

Arm raised and enveloped in an ever-shifting fire, Sans used his hold on Dipper's soul to ram his body against walls of bone that appeared on every side of the hall, each of them colliding with soft flesh, resulting in a patchwork of bursting blood vessels and pulverized muscle. The first bone shard punctured a shoulder that continued to weep after the rapid assault drew to a close, with Sans dropping the boy unceremoniously to the ground, but Bill didn't care if his host's legs were broken, jutting out to the sides like snapped twigs.

In a horrifying show of exactly how much control the demon had wrested away from Dipper, Bill dragged his uncooperative limbs beneath him. It was like watching a broken doll struggling to put itself back together with pieces that no longer fit. While Sans took stock of the damage in a clinical sense, mentally listing broken bones and the rate of impending organ failure to gain an estimate for which of them would run out of steam first, Mabel clapped both hands over her mouth to smother the scream threatening to explode from her lungs.

Dipper couldn't sustain his weight without exasperating the damage, without jarring the white shard speared through his shoulder or the long, slender bone that had narrowly missed his spinal column when it'd pierced his stomach with the ease of a toothpick poking through tissue paper. He shouldn't have been conscious, let alone standing, but all that filled the venomous yellow eyes glaring out at them was hate. Baring his teeth in a mocking sneer, Bill raised a slender, shaking arm to point the tip of the blade at the center of the skeleton's ribcage.

Acknowledging the threat with an empty chuckle, Sans strode up to the possessed child, making sure to keep out of his reach, then leaned forward, unfazed by the demon's attempts to intimidate him. " **Judging by your expression** ," a slight reverberation deepened the skeleton's words, " **I'd say you're ready for the next round**."

Mabel wasn't sure if this was the real Sans or just a face he put on when circumstances demanded it, but something about the glint of malice in his sockets gave her pause.

She sprinted forward when he launched Dipper into the air, shoving against Sans so his focus wavered and her brother plummeted to the tile in a mess of useless limbs and unintelligible growls. "Sans, stop it!" She gripped his hoodie, giving it a rough tug when the skeleton seemed to ignore her, as he focused instead on maintaining his hold on Dipper's soul. "He's already hurt enough! He'll die if it gets any worse!"

It strained him to speak, but he managed a grunted, "that's kind of the idea."

When she made sense of his words, Mabel slowly released her grip on him, her eyes growing large and frightened as she backed away, an act which unintentionally brought her closer to her brother. During the resulting lapse in the skeleton's concentration, Bill clambered to his knees. Mabel decided he looked especially smug, like a fat cat after a huge meal, and swallowed down her fear. He wanted her to be afraid of him, so she refused to give him to the satisfaction of letting him know just how afraid she was.

She poked the knife contemptuously, as though it were a plastic toy, "I know you're in there, Dipper." She clenched her fists. "You're too stubborn to let this jerk boss you around, remember?"

A flicker of recognition seemed to pass through his features, only to be consumed by the palpable scorn Bill projected through every inch of his stolen body.

With that last ditch effort out of the way, it was time for a last, last ditch effort. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, and drew back a fist. She couldn't keep the note of satisfaction entirely out of her voice when the demon's sneer morphed from mild confusion to alarm. "Clench your teeth!"

Her punch connected with his cheek with an audible smack of flesh. It sent Bill sprawling, where he remained spread on the floor, limp and unmoving. Behind her, Sans hissed through his teeth.

Just when she was about to throw caution to the wind and run to check on him, Dipper's body shuddered, a groan emanating from his throat that sounded nothing like Bill. "Mabel?" He groaned again, limbs twitching spasmodically due to his mind having not yet caught up to his body. "Ugh. Everything hurts for some reason."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away, pushing down a lingering sense of unease until all that filled her was relief. She had Dipper back. For now, that was all that mattered. Everything else could wait.

She had a feeling that when someone was so badly hurt they couldn't move, you weren't supposed to touch them, but Dipper would be good as new once they got some food in him, so she gingerly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her chest so he could rest his head on her shoulder. Her hands dug into the folds of the orange scarf still wrapped around his neck. "I'm sorry I let you get so hurt, Dip," she sighed softly, "But we'll get you fixed up in a jiff, okay?"

"Mabel, you…" Dipper's grip on her shoulders increased to a pressure that was sure to leave bruises, setting off alarm bells in her mind. Far away, Sans was shouting, which was strange because... she didn't think he did that. It occurred to her, in a distant, disconnected way, that she'd forgotten to check Dipper's eyes, but there was no point now. Not when Bill's slitted pupils were all she could see. "You're so gullible."

There was a blur over his shoulder, followed by a glint of silver. Something wet and warm splashed her cheek. Reaching up cautiously, she touched it, rubbing the tips of her fingers together when the pads came away red.

Confused, she watched as Bill opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a wet babble. She looked down to see the thick, ropey vine protruding from Dipper's chest. He suddenly slumped forward into her arms, and they sagged together, sinking to the floor until Dipper's head rested under hers and she sobbed into his messy brown hair, her entire body shaking as everything she'd ever hoped and feared and loved came pouring out.

For a moment, Dipper's eyes were open and clear and brown, and he stared at the blood spreading from his chest without comprehension. Feebly, he tried to push Mabel away, "... 'm not safe." And she clung to that, willing him to live, but then his face went slack, and his hands fell to his sides, and nothing mattered. Because Bill was gone, but there was nothing left of Dipper to save.

And Mabel's soul was dying.

* * *

Unbeknownst to her, Flowey popped up at Sans' side with an unusual hand-knitted scarf wrapped around his stem. He looked immensely satisfied with his handiwork, until he noticed the human girl bent brokenly over the boy that'd been a breath away from killing her. He gave an aggravated sigh. "Alright, what'd I do wrong this time?"

The glowing white lights in Sans' sockets slid down and to the side to settle on the flower. "if you were trying to make a friend," he replied quietly, "killing her brother probably wasn't the best way to go about it.

Offended by the subtle implication that he might be lonely, Flowey bristled. "I just rid the Underground of a menace." If he was capable of it, he'd have puffed up his chest. "That makes me a hero."

Dragging a skeletal hand down his brow with a low scrape, Sans muttered, struggling to be heard over the deafening sound of agonized sobs, "beating the bad guy's great and all but, in the end, it doesn't mean much. just that you were stronger than the guy you killed."

After a moment of thought, Flowey rolled his eyes. "You've got to be the worst comedian in the world."

Ignoring that, Sans continued, "heroes save people." His gaze was locked on the girl, whose cries were only rising in pitch as time passed. At this rate, she was going to exhaust herself into a stupor. "anything else is just self-satisfaction.

"I saved _her_ ," Flowey persisted, still not entirely grasping the difference between what his actions had accomplished and genuine heroism.

This time, the skeleton didn't offer anything more than, "does she look saved to you?"

Slowly, the girl lifted her head towards the light streaming through the stained glass window. With the steady rivulets streaming down her cheeks radiating a subtle glow and flecks of auburn in her hair shimmering, it was easy to imagine her as the angel of the prophecy, something pure and good and trapped below ground, sitting lost and dazed where the sunlight couldn't reach.

Flowey thought back to when she'd offered him the scarf his mother had made, how he'd tried to scare her, to warn her. Because love only ever led to pain. Instead of laughing, easy and cheerful, her lips now moved soundlessly, forming the same words over and over.

"This isn't funny, anymore," he decided.

Sans didn't seem to be listening, though. He was watching as walls began to fade, becoming translucent and indistinct. Leaning forward to hear what Mabel was saying wouldn't have taken more than a second, but what was the point? He already had a pretty good idea of what it was.

And the intention behind it was clear enough.

Flowey picked up on the changes quickly. It didn't take him long to pinpoint the cause. "Hey, you look a little tired, Trashbag." From a friend, it might have sounded like concern, but Flowey wasn't a friend. He grinned cruelly up at Sans as the windowpanes dimmed, absence substituting light as time began to rewrite itself. "Think you can handle another round?

"my schedule was pretty free, last I checked. i'll manage." The darkness encroached without resistance, seeping in through the windows and crawling down from the ceiling before spilling over the floor. It swallowed Mabel first, who went without uttering a single sound, still clutching her brother, as though hoping that if she held on tightly enough, desperately enough, time wouldn't separate them.

It'd be better if she didn't remember any of this, but that wasn't an option, was it? Someone had to.

By the time it was his turn to vanish into the void, Flowey was already gone. Still, Sans stared hard at the skeletal hand held inches in front of his face, trying to see it in the dark. With the last of his magic, he mustered a spark of blue fire from within his socket to resist the void, then quickly made a fist. It was a small victory but it'd have to do.

Time was up.

* * *

There's sunlight streaming into the corridor from outside, illuminating the checkered tiles and amber columns. Dust particles float lazily through the rays, twinkling occasionally when the angle is right.

It could be magic, like the snowfall and the rain, but Mabel desperately hoped it wasn't. If they were so near to the surface that the sun's light could reach them, then that had to mean that freedom was practically a hand's stretch away.

 _Except it wasn't. Dipper was dead. Flowey had killed him. No, that wasn't right, either. Bill… tried to kill her. And Sans... He'd tricked her._

A hand flew to her temple and she groaned, wincing with a sudden headache as memories began to pour into her skull. She could hear Sans calling for her, but it sounded distant, and her mouth wasn't working right. It wasn't until a cool sensation seeping in to dull the pain made it manageable that she cracked her eyes open to see Sans staring at her with a shuttered gaze. "this isn't the first time we've done this, is it?"

She shook her head, confirming his suspicions, but before she could explain, he waved her off, already heading towards his position further down the hall so he'd be ready when her brother came strolling through the entrance, "don't bother explaining. i'm sure you had your reasons."

A slap of sneaker soles dragged their attention to the arced entrance with the violence of an exploding star. This time, she didn't move, and Sans didn't ask her to.

Bill poked his head out, looking gleeful with gears and bolts sticking out of a disheveled mop of brown hair. He picked one out and flung it, sending it skittering across the floor.

Refusing to be baited, Sans didn't bother looking at it, with the only sign of his gleaning any meaning from the taunt being the slightest narrowing of his sockets when the former human entered fully, revealing a body covered head-to-toe in dust.

"Before we get started," Bill curled Dipper's mouth into a menacing sneer, shifting the knife in his hand so the light reflected off its surface as he walked towards them with a spine that swayed back and forth, limbs swaying as though they were all flesh and no bone, "I've got a question I'd like ya to answer for me," Mabel held her breath, wondering if it'd be the same question he asked the first time, "do you think even the worst person can change? that they can be a good person, if they just try?"

Bill stared at him in blatant disbelief. "Are you trying to lecture me, Comedian?" Shrugging, Sans insisted it was just a question he was curious about. "Humans aren't all that different from insects," Bill started, already warming to the subject. "They see the world from their narrow little perspectives, never looking up, because if they did, they might see the can of bug spray hovering over their heads, and then their entire concept of reality would collapse into pieces." He paused to throw a wink in Mabel's direction before continuing, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth at the violent cringe it elicited. "Humans are greedy, stupid, selfish, ignorant creatures. It's how they are and how they'll always be."

"hm. is that so? well, then, i suppose i should thank you," the skeleton's comment held a ring of truth to it that intrigued the demon. "after all, you've just made my job a little easier."

He raised an arm towards the ceiling, his sockets blazing through a spectrum of colors as he called forth an army of Gasterblasters from the ether, each of them bound to his will, his magic. And all with one target.

Making no effort to avoid the oncoming blast, Bill faced the creatures down with a wide grin. Their maws filled with a bluish-white light that exploded towards him, slamming into and over and around him until the entirety of his body was engulfed by the beams.

When the energy died down to little more than lingering charge in the air, however, it was to reveal that Bill was still standing, entirely unscathed. Sans absorbed the sight with a bark of mirthless laughter and a defeated shake of his head.

Bill stepped forward, tongue poised to form the first syllable of a jeer, when a bone shard erupted from the tile to impale him.

Since he was effectively pinned to one spot now, as any attempts to move would only widen the hole in his chest, Sans circled around him, studying him. "magic doesn't work on you, then." It was a discovery that was likely come in handy later. "sorry," he added without any real feeling behind it, "but i had to be sure."

"Nobody likes a cheater," Bill spat, but Sans didn't intend to indulge the demon by denying the claim. He didn't care if his enemies called him a cheater. He'd do what he had to do to win. If they weren't prepared to deal with everything he could dish out, then they shouldn't have murdered his friends and family.

Besides that… He figured that the kid had less than a minute's worth of life left in him, which meant the demon would be leaving any second now.

And sure enough, the sickly yellow gave way to a more natural brown, and Sans waited, giving Mabel time to comfort her brother, before plunging the bone shard back into the earth so the boy's body could fall once more into his sister's arms. Carefully, she laid him out on the floor, making sure his eyes were shut so it looked like he was only sleeping.

From where she knelt, Mabel told him in the surest tone he'd ever heard from her, "I'm going back again." And though she wouldn't see it, he nodded. She ducked her head. "I really am sorry, though," she added softly. "We didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"i know, kid." And he did. "and i'm still glad i got to meet you two." He played with the idea of patting her head before deciding against it. Instead, he maintained a certain distance, close enough where she could feel his presence but not close enough to touch. "hey, when you finally get out of here, and you will, don't forget about us, okay?"

"I don't think I could if I wanted to," she whispered, her voice barely audible even in the seamless silence of the hall. Already, he could see the beginnings of something haunted in her, something wounded that would scar but never heal, and immediately he wished he could take it back.

Above them, black ichor had begun its crawl down the columns, was already oozing through the windowpanes and cracks in the floor.

Time was up.

She moved closer to him, frightened. Without thinking, he snatched up her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "mabel?" The lights dimmed. He felt her tense so he illuminated the small space as best he could, because it was important that she hear this – hear this and remember. "this time around," the lights went out, "don't listen to a word i say."

* * *

There's sunlight streaming into the corridor from outside, illuminating the checkered tiles and amber columns. Dust particles float lazily through the rays, twinkling occasionally when the angle is right.

It could be magic, like the snowfall and the rain. In fact, Mabel was sure that was exactly what it was. They weren't anywhere near the surface. It was all an illusion, and she berated herself for not realizing it sooner.

She sensed Sans watching her, but he didn't say anything and she wasn't in the mood to talk about it, so she scowled fiercely at the window, playing along with the out he'd presented her with by pretending she didn't notice the attention. At least the pain from her returning headache wasn't terrible; more of a dull roar than the icepick shoved through her brain it'd been at the start.

The slap of sneakers approaching through the arced entrance was expected at this point. She almost didn't turn around to look, but managed to catch the messy mop of her brother's hair peeking out from under his cap when Bill entered, striding in as though he owned the place and everything in it.

"What's it going to be this time, Comedian? More lasers? Or are you going to dismember me?" He licked his lips. "That should be plenty of fun for both of us."

"neither, actually. i'm ready to make a deal." Bill zeroed in on him like a hawk pinpointing its prey.

"Sans," Mabel whispered urgently, "what are you doing?!"

But he wasn't listening.

After sparing her a smug glance, Bill gestured for him to continue, and Sans elaborated, "why focus on taking over other timelines when you can have my help ruling this one? with my magic at your disposal, taking over the humans or eradicating them, neither would be much of a problem." A beat passed where he studied the intrigued expression sitting incongruously on Dipper's face. "and something tells me you already know what i can do."

The thought of inhabiting a body with an army of skeleton creatures at its beck and call certainly struck Bill as something that would come in handy. While human bodies were great for tasting food and feeling pain, it'd be nice to wreak some real havoc on the physical plane again. And as great as this timeline was, it was sorely lacking the shrieks of torment and madness that gave it that personal touch.

Still, he reined in his enthusiasm. It was never wise to jump on a deal without knowing the terms. And he should know. "Alright, what's the catch?"

"no, nothing like that. i just want some insurance that you won't ditch this timeline at some point and leave me in the lurch. if i agree to this, you don't get to back out. so here's the deal i'm proposing: you tether yourself to this timeline, and i'll give ya a hand with whatever you can think of."

Stepping forward, Sans thrust out a bony hand, "whatdya say, pal? partners?"

Bill reached for it, hesitated, then gradually pulled back. He pointedly turned towards Mabel.

Sans followed his gaze. "what? you think I'd sacrifice everything for some dumb kid?" Despite refusing to believe he meant it, Mabel couldn't suppress a flinch. "or a bunch of humans i've never met? and here i thought you were shapin' up to be smarter than that."

It was a gibe aimed at the provoking the demon into flaunting its own perceived superiority, but such things were always risky when it came to dealing with the inflated egos and flexible morality of power-hungry sociopaths, like walking on a wire over a molten pool of lava, but Sans already had some practice in that area.

Having at last decided that the reward outweighed the risk, Bill eagerly clapped a hand over the skeleton's, not expecting Sans' grip to suddenly become a vice that prevented him from jerking away when foreign blue flames traveled up the skeleton's arm to engulf Dipper's from the elbow down. Struggling, Bill protested, "Hey, what gives? What's the big idea?"

With a solid yank, Sans tore Bill from Dipper's body and mind, sending the demon catapulting over his head while the boy collapsed. He could see it now. His magic clung to the energy forming the chaos demon, and it was furious, its single eye bulging and scarlet.

Feeling somewhat smug himself now that the tables had been turned, Sans snapped his fingers, summoning his Gasterblasters to do what they did best. "i'm cheating."

A feral growl erupted from the demon as it lunged for him, but Sans was unfazed. He waited until its hands were nearly wrapped around him, as though it were intending to crush him in its grip, then unleashed a steady stream of the most destructive magic in the Underground from the maws of dozens of artificial monsters. It was every Gasterblaster in his arsenal, and Bill writhed, spindly limbs curling and twitching as he shrieked in the beams obliterating him from every angle.

"even though you said you're a being of chaos, that's basically just a fancy way of saying you're made of magic, same as the rest of us." The beams stopped abruptly, revealing nothing but a charred circle on the tile directly below where Bill had burned. Sans scuffed the edge with the tip of a fuzzy pink slipper. "think on that while you're putting your atoms back together."

With that done – and hopefully for the last time because he was pretty sure that trick wouldn't work twice – Sans made his way back to Mabel to find her carefully tracing the bruises and burns marring her brother's arms and face, her fingers ghosting over tears in his clothes and a swollen, discolored hand. "He won't wake up," she whispered at his approach. "Sans, why isn't he waking up?"

Sans tried not to think about how a monster destabilized after a fusion, about how ripping away the human soul destroyed them both. It wasn't the same.

While clenching and unclenching the hand that had violently torn the demonic presence entrenched within the boy's mind, Sans watched as Mabel brushed a damp lock of his bangs to the side, revealing the open, unseeing brown eyes hidden beneath them.

Mabel's brother was undoubtedly alive. But that didn't mean he was saved.

Unfortunately, Sans hadn't been using hyperbole when he'd mentioned the demon putting himself back together. Energy never really disappeared. It only changed form. What was scattered could always return to its original state, and his magic reserves were just about scraping the bottom of the barrel. "i'm sorry, kiddo," he told her with all of the sincerity he could muster in his exhausted state, "I know this is hard, but we don't have a lot of time." She looked up at him with trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes, and he hated the words coming from his mouth before he said them, but knew they had to be said. "i'm going to have to ask you to reset."

For an instant, all he could read off her was terror. "You mean you want me to start over? But I finally… We finally…"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "even without that guy giving you trouble, getting back here won't be a cakewalk, but I think you're both up to the challenge." If rewinding the timeline to a previous point didn't get the demon off their backs, then jumping to an entirely new one might do the trick. That was the idea, anyway. "just stay you, no matter what happens, and things will work out for the best."

They always did.

Any trace of wariness she might have held vanished at the reassurance, because despite everything, she still yearned to believe – to believe in magic and second chances and happy endings. In him. "You promise?"

And Sans couldn't fathom what he'd done to earn it, but even if he didn't know just then, someday, somehow, he was going to. "yeah. you bet, kiddo. just close your eyes and think about starting over. think about when you first fell here." She scrunched her eyes shut, but as time passed and the charred circle began to pulse, the small hand squeezing her brother's tightened. He could see the frustration in her furrowed brow, but this was the only way he could think of to put an end to this battle for good, "i know it's hard, but i really need you to try."

Her eyes snapped opened. "I am, Sans! It's not working!" There was a hitch in her breath that worried him, a subtle shuddering around her shoulders and limbs. She needed time to calm down, to relax and focus on the objective, but judging by the sudden breeze sweeping through the hall, time wasn't on their side.

"okay, okay," he gave her shoulder a small squeeze, "i know. it's okay." He dry-swallowed, fighting back a wave of nausea. "i'm going to help you, alright, mabel? but i need you to close your eyes, okay? you can do that for me, right?" She closed her eyes. Unquestioning. Trusting. "okay. good. now take a deep breath. this will only hurt for a second."

She stiffened.

There was a feeling like a punch to her chest, and she pitched forward, falling against soft fabric that smelled of grease and ketchup. She could feel Sans cup the back of her head, and tried to speak, but was suddenly too tired to move. "i'm so sorry, kid."

She wanted to tell him he didn't have to apologize. It didn't hurt.

But time was up.

...

…..

 _Hey Dipper,_

 _So I've thought long and hard about this, and I'm not going home without you._

 _I guess what I'm really trying to say is… let's do this again._


	26. Epilogue: Everything Stays

"Mabel! Are you okay?"

The boy scrambled to his feet, wincing from the scuffs and scrapes he'd gotten from the fall as he parted a nearby patch of flowers to find his sister gazing dazedly up at the sunlight streaming in from the crack they'd slipped through. There was a bruise forming on her chin and her hands were just as scraped as his, but otherwise she appeared to be mostly unharmed. Exhaling a gusty sigh of relief, the boy helped her climb to her feet.

Immediately after standing up, she blinked and rubbed her eyes, before her whole body shifted into motion, becoming a blur that plowed against his side with a force that scattered golden petals and knocked the air from his lungs.

"Dipper," she cried out with pure, unadulterated joy, "you're alive!"

He huffed a laugh, before returning the embrace with a small smile, both exasperatedly fond and mildly concerned. Trying to play it off as casual, he asked her if anything was wrong, "besides us being stuck inside Mt. Ebott, I mean." Anyone else would've obviously been upset by falling into a crevice at the top of a mountain, but Mabel wasn't like anyone else. To her, every bump in the road was a new adventure.

Which was why the suspicious wetness shimmering in her brown eyes completely blindsided him, but before he could mention it, she quickly scrubbed her face with the cuff of her sweater sleeve. "Actually," she grinned, looking more like her cheerful self, "it's all finally right!"

When he suggested they start looking for an exit, however, she asked him to wait because, "There's someone I want to talk to." But whoever or whatever they were, they never showed.

Instead, a goat lady with a regal bearing found them, and before she'd even introduced herself, discovered the existence of a small human clinging to her side. "Oh!" She smiled warmly down at Mabel. "Did something scare you, young one?" Patting Mabel affectionately on the head with a white paw, she added, "I am sorry I did not come sooner."

She led them back to her home, where they were given pies to eat and matching scarves, though Mabel asked for lavender fabric in hers, because apparently she'd decided that the color of Toriel's robes would go well with sunny gold. It was an odd thing to say when there wasn't a trace of the color in her current ensemble, but she'd been saying so many odd things lately that Dipper wasn't sure where to start.

In a few of the rooms they explored, there were remnants of other children, including a box of mismatched shoes and rows of dusty, long abandoned toys, but though Mabel agreed that it was a little strange when Dipper voiced his concerns, she fiercely insisted that Toriel was a good person, that she was hurting and lonely and maybe even a tiny bit bitter, but also caring and unbelievably kind.

Despite her words, she followed Dipper out when he tried to leave, after which they got separated for a brief period of time that was just long enough for him to find a toy knife. He almost threw the thing away when he noticed how Mabel blanched, flinching hard at the sight of it in his hand. Instead, he kept it concealed in his pocket, and they scared away the large frog creature she seemed to know was waiting for them around the corner by flailing their arms and shouting.

It wasn't until Toriel attacked them at the end of the corridor that he briefly entertained the idea of using it, but Mabel dodged the fireballs like it was easy, like she'd seen them all before, all the while pleading for Toriel to let them through. "When this is over, I'll come visit you again!" Eventually, when the barrage slowed to a crawl, Mabel walked up to Toriel and held her paw. "I'd like to try more of your pies… if that's okay with you?"

With a short, strangled cry, Toriel embraced her, and pulled Dipper into the mix when he ventured too close. When she released them, the fur on her cheeks was damp, though she hastily patted them dry. Once she'd successfully regained her composure, she politely asked them not to come back, and Dipper drew in a sharp intake of breath, worried about how Mabel would take it, only to see her nod, saddened but not surprised, which was so unlike her that Dipper did a subtle double take.

What was going on?

Just when he didn't think things could get any weirder, they stepped through the gate to get subsequently chewed out by a very angry flower. It was caustic and biting, yet Mabel brightened like a flare from a miniature sun at the sight of it, thrilled beyond belief for a reason Dipper couldn't even begin to fathom, let alone comprehend.

"So you saved one Froggit. Big deal," Flowey sneered at them. "You really think that'll change anything?"

Dipper watched in stunned silence as Mabel carefully unraveled the lavender scarf from around her neck, then knelt with it draped over her palm, held within easy reach of the flower. When Flowey narrowed his eyes in suspicion, refusing to take the offered garment, she opted to wrap it around the flower's stem, repeating the motion until the slender stalk was covered all the way up to its petals. From the way Flowey tensed at the ministrations, Dipper guessed they had done little to lessen the plant monster's harsh opinion of them, but an encouraging smile aimed in its direction changed the guarded expression into one of confusion and disarming vulnerability.

Stepping back, Mabel raised her chin, fixing her gaze on the arced gate, the first step on the path that would lead them home. "It already has."

* * *

It wasn't until they'd stepped outside, their shoes crunching through a layer of bright snow that Dipper noticed a soot smear on Mabel's cheek. When he pointed it out, though, she waved him off with a snicker. "Pfft. This?" She scrubbed it away with the cuff of her purple sleeve. "It's not even worth mentioning compared to what happened to last time."

And there it was again – the casual implication that this wasn't their first time falling through the mountain, fighting Toriel, or meeting what had the be the crankiest sentient fauna in existence (though, with any luck, that particular category was extremely narrow.)

Rubbing his arms to increase circulation, Dipper finally asked about the odd statements while they trudged down the pin-straight trail cutting through what appeared to be a forest of ancient pines, each with trunks that stretched all the way to the cavern ceiling.

Though she kept swiveling her head around to glance expectantly at the treeline as they approached a wooden gate, Mabel hummed a little to show she was listening, before suddenly pulling off first her top sweater, then the second green one beneath it, the latter of which she silently held out for Dipper to take when a particularly violent shudder had him clicking his teeth. "That's not a boy's sweater, Mabel," he insisted when his hesitation to take what their grandma had knitted for her last Hanukah resulted in more emphatic gestures, but then she stopped walking entirely, refusing to budge until he grudgingly pulled it on. "Won't you be cold now?" He grumbled, though he was secretly pleased to see that the fabric's faded green matched the earthy tones of his favorite green cap.

"Nah. It's no big d, Dipnip. The one I get later is tons better." A tad sheepish, she added, "But don't tell Grams I said that." Ignoring that second bit, Dipper gave her a pointed look.

Recognizing the stubborn set of his jaw, Mabel looked askance, nerves making her jittery and impatient to progress. She scratched her cheek several times before finally admitting, "I think… I… I dreamt about this place." A strained smile appeared to stand in sharp contrast with the newborn shadows flitting through her features, and Dipper dropped the subject. Anything that made her look at the world with the solemn, haunted demeanor of someone grieving in the midst of endless rows of pale graves was best left for another time. The right time. Whenever that would be.

From that point on, he did his best to accept that she knew more than she should have without prying for the reason. It turned out to be one of the best decisions he'd ever made because reason was sorely lacking amongst the Underground's monster populace.

"Sans!" For example, unlike most people, who would run in the opposite direction if a skeleton stalked them and then reached for a handshake, Mabel bulldozed into him with arms that flew around his ribcage and squeezed with bone-crushing relief and joy.

Chuckling warmly, the skeleton laid slender skeletal fingers on her back. "easy there, kiddo. we don't know each other, remember?" Impossibly, the skeleton winked. "or did ya forget?"

With her face buried in his sky blue hoodie, Mabel quickly shook her head, and the skeleton's glowing white pupils brightened.

His name, which he shared as soon as he managed to pry Mabel off him, was Sans.

After the official introduction, Dipper did the polite thing by stating his own name, then held out a hand to shake, though he wound up feeling awkward when Sans didn't immediately take him up on the offer. Instead, the skeleton took his time scrutinizing Dipper with a searching, calculating air, but whatever he was looking for, he must've found it, because he softened considerably, before commenting with surprising sincerity, "It's nice to finally meet you, Dipper."

He clapped a hand over Dipper's, squeezed, and-

PPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT!

* * *

Usually, Mabel was a natural at Hide & Seek. Her creativity tended to give her a leg up on the competition, but when it came to Sans' human-catching obsessed brother, the concept of _hiding_ was a tradition lost to the ages.

Although Sans told them to get behind one of the two conveniently child-shaped lamps located by his sentry station so Papyrus wouldn't see them, the moment the gangly skeleton dressed in scarlet boots, gloves, a flowing scarf, and foam armor got within shouting distance, Mabel darted out from behind her hiding spot to hug him around the knees, which was where she remained, stuck to him like velcro while Papyrus gaped at the strange, cuddly creature clinging to his bones.

After several false starts, he finally managed, "C-COULD YOU BE… A HUMAN?!" Grinning wider than a Chesire cat, Mabel eagerly bobbed her head. Predictably, Papyrus seemed to take the whole thing in stride. "SANS!"

Sans held up his arms as though to ward off the volley of silent accusations Papyrus was aiming in his direction. "hey, don't look at me. I told her to hide."

"THAT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE!"

* * *

They solved Papyrus' puzzles in what had to be record time. In fact, it was record time because no one else had ever solved them before, unless Sans counted, and Dipper didn't think he did since he'd helped make them in the first place.

Anyway, after crossing a needlessly narrow bridge that was booby-trapped with flames and spears and a little white dog that Papyrus apparently had a massive grudge against, the skeletons offered to lend them the couch in their living room if they needed a place to rest and catch their breath.

Well, Papyrus did, if only so he'd finally have friends to show off his action figures off to, but Sans wasn't exactly opposed to the idea, and neither was Dipper, despite any misgivings he might have had about their intentions, but when Mabel shook her head to politely refuse the offer, the older skeleton didn't appear the least bit surprised. In fact, and Dipper didn't know for sure because, unlike Papyrus, the older brother rarely used his magic to mold his skull into various expressions, but if he had to guess based on his own experiences, then the emotion glittering in the skeleton's wide sockets could only be one thing: pride.

* * *

The twins stayed for free in Snowdin town's only inn, a small business owned and run by a family of rabbit monsters. Mabel's attitude when she greeted the Innkeeper and their child was more subdued when compared to her previous meetings, almost demure. She acknowledged the little white rabbit staring at them with a wiggle and wave of her fingers, but otherwise left the majority of the interactions up to Dipper.

He didn't really feel all that tired, since his sister had done the lion's share of work when it came to solving the puzzles and navigating the forest, and would have liked to continue on since their parents had likely been informed by that time that they hadn't shown up to school, but Mabel looked dead on her feet, exhausted in a way that had crept up on her without either of them noticing.

It was while they were staying in the inn that she woke up screaming for the first time.

Skin covered in beads of sweat, she'd seemed too entrenched in the lingering tendrils of the dream to register Dipper calling her name. When his voice finally pierced the fog of sleep, she spun to look at him, and her eyes widened, becoming huge and panicked, like a deer caught in a bear trap.

He waited, frozen, for the stark terror to fade. Her gaze darted down to his hands, before rising to settle on his face, as though convincing herself that he was real, and then she breathed a long sigh of relief, after which she sagged against the pillows, exhibiting the very exhaustion a short rest was supposed to cure.

Instead, it'd only made it all so much worse.

Some time after he'd finally gotten her to settle back down to sleep and then subsequently fallen back to sleep himself, Dipper sat up in bed to realize he was alone. Frantic, he raced out of the room, only to hear the Innkeeper humming softly from behind a door at the end of the hall. He crept closer to see Mabel sitting on a stool in front of a mirror, keeping herself still while the Innkeeper methodically brushed and braided her long hair with a silver comb.

Feeling as though he'd accidentally intruded on a private moment, he silently returned to their room. The next time he woke up, there was a backpack full of goodies for them to bring on their journey waiting for them on a long table, and his sister sported the latest addition to her vast sweater collection with unconcealed pride.

Even though she seemed okay, Dipper didn't want to leave her alone, so they walked to where the skeleton brothers lived together. Not long after they arrived, Dipper found himself roped into playing sock puppets with Papyrus on a bed shaped like a racecar.

He would never be entirely sure how it happened, but to both of their credit, Dipper's sock puppet did bear a striking resemblance to him, and the stories they acted out were engaging enough to keep his attention. Though with two powerhouses of imagination at the reins, crazy plots and even crazier plot holes were a given.

After a while, Sans peeked in to check on them, something which Papyrus treated with the severity of a breach in national security. "SANS, WE ARE PLAYING WITH SOCK PUPPETS!" He exclaimed with a volume that suggested shouting, though as shouting was pretty much his default, Dipper presumed that he was really only mildly irked. "THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! YOU MUST NOT INTERRUPT OUR CREATIVE FLOW!"

"oh. sorry, bro… " After getting a better look of the aforementioned puppets, Sans blinked. "those wouldn't happen to be my socks, would they?"

Grinning at the hint of trepidation lurking within his even tone, Dipper gave his googly-eyed vest-wearing monstrosity a little shake.

Wiggling her bare toes in the air, Mabel replied, "Papyrus told us that the post-it notes downstairs are slowly becoming a piece of modern art, so we're using mine, instead."

Amused by the casual admission, Dipper meditated on his own missing sock. Walking around in the snow would be even more chafing and awkward now, but some things, he decided as he watched Papyrus boop Mabel on the nose with his cloth likeness, eliciting a happy peal of laughter, were worth a little discomfort.

* * *

After a friendly spar with Papyrus - something Dipper had suggested, though he'd rather expected Mabel to argue against it, and was surprised when she went along with it - followed by an impromptu snowball fight which left them smelling of melting ice and cold, Sans invited them to lunch at _Grillby's_. He likely regretted it after Mabel marched straight up to where Doggo was hovering over a stack of red chips and a hand of cards to yank the smoking bone from between his jaws. "No!" She told the canine guardsmen sternly, nevermind that he could quite plausibly make a meal of her. "This is bad for you."

She then realized she had nowhere to put the bone and thus awkwardly gave it back.

Doggo stared down at her with one raised eyebrow, baffled by what was either a very brave or a very foolish creature trying to tell him how to live his life, before a scowl took up residence on his muzzle, and the tension in the restaurant skyrocketed when Grillby turned to observe the burgeoning altercation.

All the patrons knew that Snowdin was neutral ground. It was an unspoken rule that the resident bartender took very seriously. Usually, he was quiet and kept to himself, but breaking the rules was a sure-fire way to witness a whole new side of him.

Before things could escalate, however, an amused snort shifted the atmosphere, a warm sound shortly accompanied by a sharp bark from Dogamy that evolved into a low, continuous chortle. Observing her husband's merriment at their friend's expense, Dogaressa pulled back her hood to reveal a soft smile, and placed a paw on Mabel's head, "We've been telling him that for years, pup."

While Doggo was distracted by Dogamy sidling up and playfully nudging him, Sans herded the twins to the bar, where they each ordered burgers and greasy fries with the money Mabel had won after kicking a snowball across a patch of ice and into a hole, a feat which was, in her own words, completely earned and definitely had nothing to do with crazy time travel shenanigans.

After the first few bites, which Mabel ate with visible relish, she reached for the ketchup, upended it over her fries, then let loose a startled squeak when the cap popped off and nearly the entire bottle splashed onto her plate. This had to be the first time Dipper had seen any hint of surprise on her face since they'd fallen, and he almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it… but then she kept staring at the red blob coating her fries and spilling over the counter, at the flecks sticking to her hands, with her lips parted slightly in a silent _oh_.

At Sans' gentle nudge and anxious stare, she offered a tight smile, then dunked a fry in the ketchup pool to further reassure them. Grillby took the plate away, regardless, replacing it with a fresh burger and extra crispy fries. Free of charge.

Because Mabel was usually so transparent, not knowing what was going on in her head was new and uncharted territory for Dipper, who couldn't even hazard a guess, which left him feeling perpetually unsettled. It didn't seem possible that anyone could change so much in such a short period of time, yet his sister was clearly different. Something must have happened. Something he should have been there for, because whatever it was, she shouldn't have had to go through it alone... But what? They'd been right by each other's sides almost the entire time.

He found his answers after he died for the first time, and dust coated his dreams.

* * *

They both took it hard when Undyne killed him. For Mabel, watching his death wasn't an experience she was ready to repeat, and so when Dipper woke to find himself outside of Hotland, ready to fight Undyne for the second time, it was to find his sister curled up on the nearby stones, her head and body buried within her sweater.

If she hadn't needed him to keep it together for both of their sakes, he's not sure what might have happened, but she did, and eventually they outlasted the captain of the Royal Guard, and though the jagged edge of fear that accompanied each new death never dulled, with each new experience they got faster, their strategies smarter.

And Dipper did everything he could to both defend himself from the monsters and find it in his heart to give them a second chance. Or, in Undyne's case, a _fourth_ chance. ( He did feel a bit better after Mabel accidentally burned her house down, though. )

Flowey, on the other hand, was a special case. While Dipper could and did feel pity for him, after bearing witness to a grotesque transformation that would make even the most ancient abominations whimper in terror, pity wasn't enough to convince him that killing the sentient plant wasn't the best and safest option for everyone, including the monsters.

But Mabel stayed his hand. "No, none of that," she'd said firmly, while staring solemnly at the both of them. "We're doing things right this time."

The next time Mabel met Flowey in that space that existed out of time, he wasn't a flower, but a boy only a little younger and a little smaller than she was, with floppy goat ears and a green-and-yellow striped sweater. And this time, she knew exactly who he was.

She glanced around for Dipper or Sans or Toriel, but found only blackness that reached and reached for eternity. Finally, she focused on Asriel, curious. "Why only me?"

In response, Asriel smiled kindly. "Why not? You're the hero of this story, aren't you?"

"We're _all_ the heroes of this story," Mabel instantly corrected him. Then she cocked her head to the side. "I know a faker when I see one."

He'd never wanted to fight – there wasn't a point to it, anymore - but fighting was the only way to break the barrier. In order for everyone to have their happy ending, their tale needed a villain, so Flowey did what he did best, but…

"I'm a little happy for Flowey," Asriel confessed. "He finally got the chance to be his own hero." His steady gaze slid off her, lowering to the floor, then he ducked and turned his head, his mouth twisting bitterly to the side. "Even if he wasn't very good at it."

"I'm not so sure about that," Mabel reluctantly admitted. The topic of Flowey 'heroics' was still something of a sore spot for her, "but he was definitely a terrible friend." At the surprise blooming on Asriel's face, she gave a sage nod. "Probably the worst friend I've ever had."

Stunned, Asriel gaped at her. "You still consider him a friend. After everything he – we- _I_ did? Are you crazy?!"

She crossed her arms with a huffed, "Maybe I am." Then softening, she added, "But you're my friend, too, Asriel. And I'd really like to get to know you better." If all the monsters climbed to the surface, who would still be around to keep him company? Who would he talk to? The solution was obvious. "Come with us. We…" She trailed off when Asriel slowly shook his head. He patiently explained to her that even though he'd regained his original body, once he broke the barrier and returned the souls, he'd go right back to being a flower again. And she listened, increasingly upset, because his parents thought they'd lost him, even though they hadn't lost him at all. Not really.

But when she brought it up, Asriel calmly insisted that they had. "I can't ask them to go through the pain of losing me again, Mabel. And besides," he looked up at her, smiling despite the tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, "someone-"

"-has to look after the flowers." She tilted her head with a wide, warm smile. "Right?" And there was affection and exasperation in her tone, but not all of it belonged to her. Startled by the strength of the feelings coursing through her, she tentatively touched a cheek to find it damp. It was as though her own emotions were being compounded by a force that wasn't quite a part of her, a hitchhiker coexisting harmlessly within her mind.

And once he'd overcome the initial shock of having his own words repeated back to him, Asriel observed her carefully, peering closer until a spark of recognition passed over his youthful features. Rubbing his arms, he huffed a sad, relieved little laugh. "So that's where you were."

But when Mabel asked him what he'd meant, he simply smiled. "It's not important, right now. Maybe some other time." He sighed, closing his eyes to feel the steady thrum of all the souls trapped within him. It wasn't like with the children, when they'd writhed and fought against his control. These monsters were his friends; they knew him, even if soon they would once again forget everything that had happened. He placed a small paw over the center of his chest to feel the two souls dearest to him settle beneath its pads, emanating love and understanding and forgiveness. It was the closest he would ever get to being their son again. "Take them to the surface. And when you get there…" His lids opened to reveal the strength of his resolve, boundless love, and just a hint of mischief, "take care of Frisk for me. We worry about them, you know?"

Sensing their time was coming to an end, Mabel flung her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, feeling ashamed of the dampness spreading through his sweater when he was being so strong and so brave. Though initially hesitant, a pair of steady hands came to rest on her back to gently return the embrace. "I'm definitely coming back here, okay? No matter what happens, this isn't goodbye. We'll see each other again."

Resting his head against hers, Asriel breathed out a soft laugh. "You humans really are something else." Absently, he hooked a claw beneath the lavender scarf his mother had hand-knitted, feeling grateful and optimistic about the future his new friend and her brother would carve for monsterkind. For his family. "But for now… it's time for all the monsters to finally go free."

He pulled back, beginning to glow with a power that caressed, gentle, with paws and claws and bony fingers cupping Mabel's cheek when she shielded her eyes from the light, making her feel wanted and safe as his feet lifted above the ground, and a wordless cry, infused with the will of all monsters, shook the void.

* * *

Asriel wasn't sure what he expected when he returned to the Ruins. The golden flowers decorating the grave where his best friend was buried were healthy and in full-bloom, which should have given him some measure of satisfaction, because they were living proof that Chara hadn't been forgotten, but looking at them now, he couldn't help but think about how long it'd been since he'd spoken to them – and not a corrupted, tainted distortion of their soul, because that wasn't his sibling, but the real them.

Being close to their resting place offered some comfort, but… It wasn't the same.

Even so, he wouldn't leave them to sleep beneath the flowers alone, and while some part of him hoped for one last friendly conversation before his current body returned to its plant form, he realized, deep down, that Mabel wasn't Frisk or Chara. She was someone entirely new, with a family of her own waiting for her on the surface.

And even if that weren't the case, she had no way of knowing where he was, which meant all there was left for him to do was watch over his best friend's grave until…

A scuff of shoes against the earth startled him, and he spun around, shocked to see both of the twins stumbling out of the hallway, flyaways springing from their heads thanks to their rapid sprint through varying weather extremes. Breathing in labored huffs, Dipper absorbed the sight of the bewildered goat kid with a satisfied air, "Good. You're still you. I was afraid we wouldn't find you before…"

Opening and closing his muzzle soundlessly, Asriel alternated his stunned gaze between the two. "What – how?"

With a nonchalant shrug, Mabel explained as she approached, "This was where we first met you, and we've checked the rest of the Underground, so that left only this place. Oh, and if you're wondering why Dipper's here when he didn't get an invite to the party," she jabbed a thumb at her brother, "where I go, Dipper goes, too."

And though he'd never admit to feeling left out, Dipper made little effort in concealing how pleased he was by her answer as he nodded. Then he focused his attention solely on Asriel, and took a careful step forward, "Listen, Mabel explained some things to me. Not everything, but…" He frowned as he struggled to get the words out, "I've done some bad things, haven't I?"

Refusing to flinch or maintain the distance between them, even if the sight of the boy whose visage had been used to terrorize the Underground still proved unsettling, Asriel slowly shook his head. "Even if that were the case, I'm the last person who could blame you for it."

After all, he knew better than most the consequences that could come from desperate decisions made for the sake of a sibling.

They stayed like that for awhile, the three of them pretending they had nowhere to be, no responsibilities, no past or future. Just a never-ending present where they could talk about everything and nothing, until finally Asriel decided it was time for them to leave, to do what he couldn't, and go home.

He'd already said goodbye to Mabel, but he did it again, anyway. She could have given up at any point, on freeing the monsters, on saving her brother, on herself, but she hadn't, which was something he'd always admired in Frisk, and now he could see that it wasn't just them. There were other humans who were compassionate and kind, possibly even to a ridiculous extent, because despite everything Flowey had done to scare them and push them away, they never gave up on him, either.

When he turned to her brother, it was with the same lopsided grin he'd worn when he and Chara were definitely up to mischief, "Think I'll be seeing more of you, as well, Dipper Pines?"

Mirroring the expression, Dipper readily answered, "Where she goes, I go."

They sealed the promise of their eventual return with a bump of their fists, and then Asriel forced himself to let them go. Because they were alive, they were human, and humans didn't belong underground.

He was a good prince. Maybe even a great one.

He would have grown up to be an even better king.

* * *

Time started and stopped on that cliff jutting out of the mountainside, where the King and Queen of the monsters took their first steps on the surface in centuries, while the rest took in the sight of a world they had never seen before, and Mabel thought to herself that a part of them would never leave that moment where their new friends blinked rapidly as their vision adjusted to the natural light, and their skin and scales tingled with the gentle press of the sun's warmth, but that was okay. There were plenty of places in the Underground where pieces of her and her brother would forever be tucked away, but unlike many of the others, this was a memory she was already looking forward to reliving.

There hadn't been an opportunity to knit special commemorative sweaters before they'd stepped through the mouth of the cave (partly due to the abrupt detour her and Dipper had taken) which Mabel thought was a shame, but the important thing was that they had plenty of tomorrows now, and a whole future to look forward to.

No more looking back.

Undyne and Papyrus had run ahead to admire the glowing ball of fire sinking below the horizon, with Alphys shuffling along after them to ensure that neither of them actually attempted to fight it, while King Asgore and Queen Toriel - a title neither of the twins were quite used to yet, though it undeniably suited her - followed to provided support, if needed, and to observe as an uninvolved, yet thoroughly amused bystander, respectively.

This allowed Sans and the twins to hang back by the cave's mouth for a moment to admire the view. With a grin that looked more genuine than any that had come before it, Sans reached over to ruffle Mabel's hair, "you did it, kiddo."

The sincere praise elicited a thrill that had her stomach doing tricks, but she couldn't take all the credit for bringing down the barrier. She couldn't have done it without Dipper, or the sad, lonely boy watching over the flowers back in the Ruins, but there was something knowing in the skeleton's gaze as he watched her, and she had a feeling he already knew.

Sensing the sudden dip in his sister's mood, Dipper made a show of rolling his eyes with a scoffed, "And I suppose I had nothing to do with this?"

"is someone feeling neglected?" Glittering white pupils danced with merriment. "c'mere."

Before Dipper could beat a hasty retreat, Sans reached and hooked an arm around his neck, trapping him. Then he rubbed his knuckles against the crown of Dipper's lucky hat, accidentally catching some brown fringe between his joints before the boy half-heartedly batted him away, wincing. "Hey, stop that." Running his fingers through his bangs in an attempt to reinstate some order in the chaos, he grumbled, "You're gonna make my hair fall out."

A thoughtful hum thrumming through his teeth, Sans seemed to concede the point, "hm. you may be right," only to throw a quick, conspiratorial wink at Mabel before adding, "if I'm not careful, you'll both turn into bright, shiny cue balls before hitting your teens."

"That's totally okay, though." Mabel told him earnestly. "I can endure some male pattern baldness." She took in the odd looks Sans and her brother were aiming at her with an annoyed expression that tiptoed over the line between a frown and a pout. "You both look like you have something to say.

"no."

"I'm good."

"The Great Papyrus will never go bald," Papyrus announced as he trotted back, proudly patting his spectacularly hairless head for emphasis.

Massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumbs, Dipper groaned. "This hurts me."

Sans conveyed his sympathy by wrapping an arm around his thin frame to give the boy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "endure it, bud. you and me? we're gonna get through this."

It started out as a nervous snort that segued into a series of giggles, and with the giggles came an amused cackle, followed by quiet, refined snickers and a deep-bellied guffaw.

Dipper felt his cheeks burning when he looked up to find they'd gained an audience, but Sans offered another encouraging squeeze, and he relaxed. Having an ally, it seemed, went a long way towards making even the most embarrassing situations more bearable.

Who knew?

It didn't take long for Mabel to join in, her lungs filled with the fresh summer air as she laughed extra hard for the boy who wouldn't see the sun, who'd made all this happiness possible and couldn't enjoy any of it. She laughed for the sibling who slept in the damp earth beneath the roots of a lonely flower. It wasn't until her brother's arms were wrapped around her that she felt the renewed wetness on her cheeks, and she buried her face against his chest, trembling with more emotion than she knew how to properly express. Then there were more arms around them, big and thin, furry and scaly, and some cold part hidden within them both began to melt under the combined heat of so many bodies pressed against them.

The clink of metal and crash of boots hitting the earth startled them into breaking the huddle, and Asgore, before the potential threat had revealed itself, thrust himself between them and the danger, easily shielding them all with his huge girth.

With his armor gleaming gold and a giant, provenly lethal trident materialized in his grasp, Asgore cut the figure of a titan, frightening and supernaturally strong.

But before Sans or Toriel, who each realized the danger inherent in greeting the humans after a millennia locked away with aggression and violence, could react, several men and women in the mildly dirtied garb of those who lived off the land lumbered into view, their weathered features morphing quickly from exhaustion to fear as they absorbed the terrible sight of the behemoth looming over them.

Abruptly, their demeanor shifted to the tensed, bunched muscles of those preparing to fight, which wasn't what any of them had wanted, but Asgore had realized his mistake too late, so though his shoulders slumped in defeat, he didn't lower his guard or his weapon. After all, what use was there in trying to talk down frightened humans?

He'd lost too many soldiers that way, too many friends.

He'd lost his son.

A villager caught sight of the children huddled behind him, and a murmur carried through the crowd. Words like 'kidnapped' and 'hostages' were thrown around to devastating effect, and the twins struggled to free themselves from the queen's protective embrace, because they were wrong, wrong, wrong, but it wasn't their voices that cried out, "Wait!"

Sans whipped his head to the locate the source of the sound, sockets widening when a disheveled mess of brown hair weaved through the crowd, shoving through the sea of legs until a child came tumbling out with a breathy _pah_. They sucked down a quick breath before climbing to their feet on legs that quivered due to fatigue, but their gaze was steady and strong, searching, before finally landing on the twins. And their expression brightened, shining with the brilliance of a newborn star, as they pointed, "That's them. Those are the two kids that fell!"

They rushed forward, ignoring the reaching hands and protests of the adults behind them, and darted around Asgore, fearless, as though he were no scarier than an over-inflated balloon at a Thanksgiving parade, and plowed into Dipper and Mabel, a relieved giggle bubbling its way past their lips as they threw their arms around them both. "I'm so glad you're both okay!"

They beamed, revealing a gap between their teeth where the gums still looked gooey and raw. An older man, who'd been watching Asgore closely, threw away his shovel before stepping forward with a chuckle. He craned his neck, speaking past the baffled king and to the children behind him when he said, "That little one came tearing down the mountain to tell anyone who would listen about your fall, and took a little tumble on the way down." His crinkled blue eyes softening, he turned to address the king. "Knocked their tooth clean out of their mouth, they did."

At Toriel's disapproving tut, Asgore's synapses finally snapped into action, and the trident vanished from his grip, spreading out into the ether in the form of harmless magic particles. At long last, he stepped aside.

While Mabel fussed over the child's scratches and their lost tooth, Sans shuffled forward, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He seemed nervous. "hiya, frisk."

They tilted their head to look up at him, but no recognition passed through their features, and Dipper knew, cognitively, that the skeleton couldn't possibly have a heart to break, and yet…

Shoulders hunching, Sans made an aborted attempt at ruffling the kid's hair before trying for a joke that crashed and burned, abandoned before the punchline. Giving up on acting casual, he stepped back to put some distance between himself and the human, because they'd never seen a talking skeleton before, he didn't want to scare them, and he just... needed a second to think. But when he made to leave, the kid stumbled after him. "I, um, don't think we've met before but... I'm always up for making new friends." They stuck their hand out with a shy, gap-toothed smile. "Don't you know how to greet a new pal?"

And once the initial shock faded, the look Sans fixed them with was one of pure warmth and affection. "ah, kid," he swiped at his sockets with a bony finger, "you're gonna make me cry."

The twins observed the scene with hands clapped over each other's mouths to conceal their wide grins, though the gesture was utterly ineffective on both accounts. They felt light and bouncy, accomplished in a way that only leading an entire race to freedom could warrant, and just when they'd thought things couldn't possibly get any better, they heard their names being called in the distance, in tones both frantic and achingly familiar.

It'd been mere hours since they'd last heard their parents call for them, but hearing them now, it might as well have been a lifetime.

Their parents burst forth, harried and sweaty and drawn with worry, still dressed in their work clothes, and the twins crashed against them with the force of the ocean crashing against the shore, feeling whole at last as the final piece fell into place.

At first, they just held each other tightly, struggling to process this new reality where they were together after what felt like an eternity of being apart, and their mother shuddered, something haunted lurking behind her eyes that even then still strangely mirrored her children, and she brushed the fringe away from their foreheads, placing a tender kiss on them both, and their father's grip on them increased in strength, a silent challenge against anything that would dare try to separate them again.

"We thought we'd lost you," their mother whispered, as though speaking too loudly would shatter the illusion. Her pale cheeks were flushed with spots of pink, her chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate while her heart fluttered in her chest. She'd been tired and a little dizzy after the exertion of climbing the mountain in flats, but now that her children were safe in her arms, she hardly felt it.

"We thought we'd lost you, too," Dipper admitted, glancing at them both, drinking in their presence.

"But we didn't," Mabel finished, and she placed a cool, comforting palm on her mother's cheek, smiling softly when she leaned into the touch. It felt strange to reassure their parents that they were okay, that everything was fine and they were safe and, no, the monsters didn't hurt them this time but they'd spent so much energy being afraid that dredging up the same razor-edge sharpness present in their memories proved impossible, which was just as well, because they didn't need it now.

Eventually, reluctantly, they pulled free of the embrace, and glanced over their shoulders to see Alphys, Undyne, and Papyrus chatting casually with the other villagers. They looked for Toriel, who they found standing more to the side, watching them with forlorn eyes, resignation having settled heavily on her shoulders. When she saw they were both watching her, she drew herself up, adopting a regal expression to match the stoic nod she used to acknowledge them, and maybe it wasn't the warm, gentle smile they were accustomed to, but though time could heal all wounds, sometimes it left scars.

And, sometimes, when they both hurt so much, it was impossible to tell the difference.

Following their line of sight, their parents stood to make their way over the queen, and the twins watched in awe as they introduced themselves, and thanked her for watching over them.

From Toriel's perspective, it was as though they'd suddenly grown two heads, and she floundered for a response, denying that anything she'd done could possibly worth their gratitude, but their parents pressed on, insisting that they would find some manner of repaying her and the other monsters that had watched over their children until the majority of the queen's ever-present grief drifted from the forefront of her mind.

While that was happening, Sans continued talking to Frisk, making them laugh with jokes and puns they'd never heard before, but Mabel could see his sockets widen at the unexpected exchange. And though Asgore had attempted to isolate himself, ashamed of what he'd almost done, of how terribly things could have gone due to his own lingering mistrust of the human race, the old man from before stood with him, and was even now rattling on about fishing and perfecting his cast.

It wasn't perfect - nothing ever was - but it was a start.

With her face turned towards the sun, Mabel imagined the shadows sticking to her falling away one by one. The rock-strewn mountain path sprawling before them was bright and warm, so she grabbed Dipper's hand, and he hooked elbows with Frisk, who started at the inclusion, before a delighted smile spread up their cheeks, and they raced to face whatever undetermined future lay at the end of it.

Together.

* * *

 **A/N: A huge thanks to all the artists and writers whose works helped to inspire Twintale: Wilyart, Zarla, Renwhit, Sansybones, Camila Cuevas, Ask-captain-grillby, KeetahSpacecat, FantasiaWandering, Nyublackneko, ABadTime, Mudkipful, and Flufflecat**

 **I'd also like to sincerely thank anyone and everyone who took the time to create works based off of this story. You can bet that I proudly showed each and every one of them off to my friends and families, who all agreed that Undertale and Gravity Falls have the coolest fans in the world.**


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